KING
by FlitzerJ
Summary: [Semi-AU] She woke up with no recollection of her memories. No name. No face. No age. No life. No home. Nothing. She was nothing but a child who came to. "What are you doing lying by the dumpster? You're gonna smell."
1. Kaze

**WARNINGS!**

*This fic contains _**dark themes**;_ **mentions/implications of human trafficking, rape, forced labor, explicit language** and **mature content**. The latter of which is light and will not occur until later in the story.

***Semi-AU**; for the sake of this fic, we will assume that the **series end after Chapter 216 of the manga**. From then on, the plot will divulge for this fic.

***OC-centered**; the main reason why this is Semi-AU is that the plot revolves around my OC's story. I don't want to wait for the manga to finish in order to sneak in my OC because that will take time and thus will leave this fanfic uncompleted.

***Various OCs**; aside from my main OC, expect a lot more as minor/supporting/side characters. Or in Kacchan's terms, _extras._

*Eventual **Todoroki Shouto x OC**.

*In case of future confusion, the format for this fic **begins with a flashback before the present**. It's constant throughout the story.

***Slowburn.**

*This is my **first** BNHA fic. Please bear with me and just point out any mistakes if you see one. I didn't exactly memorize the whole plot of it.

*Lastly, **_I_ _do not own __BNHA_**_. _All rights go to Horikoshi Kohei.

* * *

**"That thing on your cheek**_—_**it's a writing."**

* * *

_The man held a thought. A curious, nagging thought that was fueled by sublime interest and exquisite excitement. He barely could contain his smile in the midst of the ongoing conversation; loud and panicked from one party, then skeptic from the other. A continuous banter that all twirled in a useless circle._

_He could just_ giggle _from it all!_

_Naïve, naïve parents. . ._

_"That's impossible!"_

_"Impossible? No. Rare? Yes."_

_"Well, in this case, this is an_ extremely _rare case. Rarest of the rare! I've heard of others acquiring their quirk even as infants but, to be able to master her quirk as young as two-years-old? That's ridiculous."_

_"But sir, please! My husband and I are telling the truth. It's not that she's already mastered her quirk, per say, it's just that she's getting too powerful for both of us! She—" a hitched breath. "—we're worried. I mean, we're very proud of our daughter at first but, at the rate she's progressing, we don't know how to help her control her quirk. It was tolerable in the beginning, but she's getting stronger and stronger and things are getting out of hand—"_

_"Calm down, Mrs. Shibata," interrupted a calm voice, deep and baritone coming from a well-mannered man with hair as dark as plum. He, along with one of his two colleagues, sat across the fretted couple. Skeptic, yet struggling to maintain an open mind._

_The man withheld a sigh. "So let me get this straight, your daughter manifested her quirk at the age of two?"_

_The mother nodded._

"_And you said that she has been able to manipulate her quirk all to her liking with exceptional ease from the very beginning. A prodigy. But, ever since then, she's been getting stronger to the point of property damage?"_

_Again, the mother nodded._

_One of the man's colleagues, the one beside him—a snobbish blonde who seemed to be the most disbelieving—curled his lips. "How so? She may have gotten her quirk at a very young age but, I hardly deem her quirk noteworthy. She just flies."_

_"I beg to differ, Kenji."_

_Four pairs of eyes swiveled towards the last man, the one who could barely glue his lips together to stifle his grin. He stood by the glass door offering a view to the vast yard at the back of the house, where he eyed a four-year-old girl swooping down from fifteen feet high in the air, whooping in joy when she tilted just in time to avoid crashing down onto the hard ground._

_"See that, Kenji?" The man continued; the glee evident in his voice. "Watch the grass and the leaves in the trees when she moves_."

_Kenji stood angrily from his perch on the couch, stalking towards the giggly man near the veranda with a twisted scowl. The plum-haired man followed behind, leaving the parents exchanging confused glances by the couch._

_They had foolishly assumed that the wind had been nothing but an effect on their daughter's flight._

_Scoffing in disdain, Kenji narrowed his eyes at the girl. "So? I don't see anything special."_

_"No. Kuronoe's right. Look."_

_"Huh? What are you talking about, Hibiki?"_

_Gesturing towards the girl, the plum-haired man, Hibiki, followed her movements with a narrowed gaze; thick lips twitching when she performed another swoop and a twirl in the air—dashing into a corkscrew and various flips and all the while beaming that radiant grin of hers. No wonder the parents were getting antsy about the child's wellbeing. Her flying was wide, wild and spontaneous; a threat to her safety and others._

_But Kuronoe has a point._

_When the girl twisted her torso, Hibiki observed how her small fingers curled somewhat loosely, as if she was subconsciously pulling onto something—something no one could see. And due to her bare feet, he could see just how her toes hooked too, arching just enough to be rather unnoticeable by most._

_After those subtle movements, Hibiki saw the blades of the grass flick to the right. A sudden and abrupt turn after fluttering to the left just a second ago. The leaves on the lone tree in the yard were the same, furiously rustling to the right._

_Then no sooner after that did the girl flew in the same direction as the wind indicated, her giggles barely audible due to the glass door, but her joy was obvious even as her body toppled in mid-air. In fact, Hibiki saw the very implications of—as what the parents had suggested—a true prodigy. A rare feat seeing as quirks develop over time rather than being an instant power. The way the child moves, though clumsy in appearance, was fluid and quick as a flick._

_As if she knew just how to adjust._

_Hibiki smirked. "She doesn't fly. She commands the wind, and the wind carries her."_

_"Bingo~!" Kuronoe finally let loose of the giggle itching his throat and he grinned, wide and hungry as he followed the girl having fun around the yard with his eyes. An elemental quirk was quite common, though for some odd reason, those who wield any wind-type quirk are few in comparison to others_.

_One who has all the wind to her arsenal is quite a feat. And showing up now? In this era?_

_He refused to believe this was all just a coincidence._

_"Mr. Shibata," Kuronoe suddenly piped, his voice jovial and jumpy as he pivoted on his heel to face the parents. Naïve, naïve parents who didn't know their daughter's capabilities and potential. "Didn't you mention that your daughter talks to herself, hm? An imaginary friend, you say, yes?"_

_Startled by his eagerness, the father shrunk in himself. Unsure and uncertain as a crazed shadow fell on the man's face. Very different from Kenji's skeptic frown and Hibiki's neutral facade._

_This man seemed unhinged. Almost._

_The father gulped. "Y-Yes. We hear her talking to someone called 'King'. She mostly does that during the night. . ."_

_"'King', you say." Kuronoe hummed stroking his square jaw with a gloved hand. He glanced back one more time at the girl in the yard. An innocent four-year-old._

_That was all the proof he needs._

_King._

_He couldn't believe that the subject of his research was real—real and flying carelessly with the wind, unaware of her humongous gift and the destiny laid out beneath her feet. His life's work was coming into play, and he so badly wanted to embrace these foolish parents for calling the Quirk Management Department just to seek help for their 'unstable' daughter. He should thank Hibiki too. Years working in that department—studying and helping other individuals seek ways to cope or control their quirk too powerful for their body to carry. . ._

_Insignificant compared to the gem in this very yard._

_"I accept!" Kuronoe clapped his hands, surprising everyone in the room with a flinch. Grinning, he bowed his head a little and removed the hat on his head to hover over his chest in a mock salute. "Your daughter will be my patient!"_

_"Kuronoe—"_

_"No need, Hibiki-san! I will make sure that this girl will be subdued in no time! She may be the youngest patient we will have so far, but that does not mean this is impossible."_

_Pinching the bridge of his nose, Hibiki glanced between the parents, the girl, and Kuronoe. His very peculiar subordinate. Still, Hibiki knows his work is thorough—and there is no better way to ease some parents of a four-year-old than to be thorough._

_"Very well."_

_Soon, the papers needed were signed and a schedule was formed for the child's so-called 'control therapy'. The parents agreed with the terms of payment that was discussed right after, yet all blurred in one frivolous cause._

_Kuronoe could still feel the excitement along his skin as they left._

_He got her._

•

•

•

**HER** head hurts; a continuous drumming and pulsing around her temples that forced her to wake up from her groggy state. Her limbs ached; every fissure in her bones throbbing and screaming even as she cracked her eyes open; a strenuous effort that took seconds just to allow a sliver of her vision behind dark lashes.

She groaned, blinking through the haze as she tried to process her bearings.

Her neck twanged with pain. _'Where. . .?'_

The first sight she saw as soon as she opened her eyes was the sky—a bright and bleeding red smudged with buttery yellow and soft pink. The wind was on her face, slow and soft. Barely there at all and yet, for some reason, she felt it tingle all over her skin like a dog breathing on her face.

Despite her sluggish state, she craned her neck to the side when a shuffle to her right caught her ears.

The second thing she noticed after cracking open her vision were the round eyes peering down at her behind tangles of burnt, orange hair.

"What are you doing lying by the dumpster?"

She blinked. ". . . Dumpster?"

The mop of that ridiculous shade of hair bobbed up and down. "Yeah, you're lying down next to it and all. You're gonna smell."

Licking her dry lips, she tried forcing her eyes to open wider, lose the blurry spots and smudges around the corner of her vision. Somehow, in her effort, the pain seemed to subside the more she tried to focus on the round face above her own, and she managed to—finally—concentrate on the features of the stranger's face aside from the unruly locks of such intense shade.

It was a boy.

His burnt orange hair was long and shaggy; falling just past beneath thick eyebrows with the strands stubbornly tangling with each other. His eyes, she noted, were a soft grey; childishly round atop equally round cheeks. His skin was tan and yet. . . deflated, for the lack of better word. There was a scratch on his chin, a nick on his left eyebrow, a crinkle to his nose, and his gaze looked older than his age should allow.

Her lips parted. "W-Who. . .?"

Cocking his head, the boy pointed to himself. "Me? I should be asking you that. I'm Haru." Frowning, he reached one finger and poked her cheek, lingering just below her right eye. "What's that on your cheek?"

_'What?' _She stared at the boy in confusion, shakily pushing herself up to sit. "I-Is there something in my face?"

"Yeah," the boy nodded bluntly. "I don't know how to read it. What does it say?"

"Huh?"

"That thing on your cheek—it's a writing."

". . . Oh."

"You didn't know?"

Her mouth dried. She didn't know how to answer that. With a frown, she tried trekking through her memories, looking for something that would match the boy's words. Something to match whatever it is that was supposedly etched on her cheek.

But to her dismay, she came up blank.

There was nothing.

Nothing she could think of.

"What's your name?" The boy asked, seeing as the girl doesn't seem to know the answer to his question.

She parted her lips to answer, only to hesitate.

Still nothing.

Her shoulders shook in tremors, a wide and heavy realization beginning to weigh down on her shoulders like bricks upon bricks as she fruitlessly tried over and over again. But there was nothing—not a single thing.

Not even an image to indicate how she got here.

The air grew cold.

No name. No face. No age. No life. No home.

_Nothing_.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, a different kind of pain edged its way into her heart. Hollow and hungry—the wrenching feeling of something _missing_.

Incomplete.

She tried to blink away the tears pushing past her eyes and focused on the boy instead. He was asking her a question. A name. He asked for a name. . . Then she'll just have to give him one.

But what?

Glancing up, she saw the sky again. The red fading slowly into a shy indigo as the seconds pass. There was a cloud drifting by now too, big and fluffy. A bulbous shape conquering above.

During her slight dismay, she felt the wind lick her cold cheeks.

_'The wind. . .'_

"K-Kaze," she dropped her gaze back to the boy. "My name's Kaze."

Nodding in acceptance, the boy stood from his crouch, and she could barely stop her gasp.

He looks filthy.

Before the boy could say something, a bark from the left interrupted their conversation.

"Oi, Haru! What the fuck are you doing there, you little shit! Stop dawdling."

Haru cringed, the suspicious and puffy vibe of his curbing in a single second and he shrunk, shoulders curling up as if to shield himself from the man now approaching them in long strides.

She frowned. The boy, Haru, was thin—all bones and filth with a shirt too big for his frame and a pair of shorts tattered and faded to be even considered clean. He was barefoot too.

The girl glanced down at her own feet and scowled. She was lacking shoes too.

Looking around, she saw that they were in an alley. A rather narrow and shady alley. She was lying next to a dumpster as the boy had mentioned, and she couldn't fathom how the smell hadn't come to her until now.

She was filthy too. Just from the sight of her feet made her recoil.

Then again, what does she even look like?

"Eh?" The man who shouted at Haru sounded closer now, and both children peaked beneath their lashes, freezing when a grin fitting for a shark was seen. "You found a new bitch for us, Haru? Atta boy."

The boy looked stricken. "N-No! She was just lost—"

"Who cares? You found her, so she's coming with us."

"B-But—"

"Shut up, mutt! Did I tell you to speak?!"

Haru clamped his mouth shut, dropping his eyes on the pavement as he twisted the hem of his shirt.

Walking forward, the man crouched down, elbows on his knees as he scrutinized her form. She tried meeting his cold eyes steadily, disliking the aura he gave off like nothing. However, the way his slanted, steel blue eyes narrowed extinguished the tiny flame of her bravado. His hair was a muddy brown, short and spiked to compliment his sharp features and sturdy jaw.

And when he grinned again, she faltered at the sight of his sharp canines.

He traced her cheek with a finger. "Come on, doll. You're getting a new home."

* * *

_Inspiration derived from Gaara_, _Uchiha Sasuke & Uchiha Itachi [Naruto]; Jin [Yu Yu Hakusho]; Mikasa Ackerman [SnK]; and Haku [Spirited Away]._

_There is no such thing as a Quirk Development Department. I made that up._


	2. Forgotten

**_a/n: I know I said that the plot will alter after Deku vs Kacchan Pt. 2, but after reviewing the developments of the original characters in the series, I decided to move it and assume that the series ends after Chapter 216 of the manga. I wouldn't focus on the BNHA characters' developments since this fic is OC-centered, so I chose to divulge the plot when they were somewhat grown up a bit. For those who don't read the manga, I won't spill any spoilers, but expect season 4 characters to appear. Just cameos, maybe._**

**_:)_**

_warning: __**mentions of abuse; rape**_

* * *

**"Do** **I look like a doll?"  
**

* * *

_A young child strolled down the empty path to the park, tongue peeking out between her teeth as she kept her gaze on her feet. Each step was controlled—maintained_ _with utmost concentration. Slow and deliberate to avoid the wind from picking her up again and tossing her all over, even though it made her happy and giggly whenever that happened. It was fun, but her parents told her to keep it under control._

_Control._

_The child nodded to herself, proud to have gotten all the way here without the wind slipping between the soles of her shoes and the pavement._

_Her stomach grumbled._

_"I'm hungry." She muttered with a pout._

_That quick second was enough for her focus to fail and the child found herself being swept by the breeze, yelping when she fell on her bottom, though she was already five feet off from the ground_.

_"W-Wait!" She cried, randomly grasping at the threads of air she could feel with her palms and yanked. The wind wobbled at her distress, yet it only blew harder. The girl panicked. "Not now! Mama and papa said to control—"_

_"__Child, the wind can't be contained.__"_

_The girl felt the wind carry her higher. Higher and higher until her scream turned into one delighted laugh. The words her parents began drilling into her head faded with the joy brightening her soul, their caution lost in her glee as the wind curled around her torso. She closed her eyes, content with the breeze on her face and her hair whipping wildly along._

_She felt no fear; no panic even when a deep rumbling chuckle echoed in the back of her mind._

_Carefree, that was what she was._

_"Higher!" The child cheered, spreading her limbs wild as the wind rocketed her higher as commanded, enough that the tips of her fingers grazed the puffiness of one low cloud._

_She grinned. "Soft!"_

_The child closed her eyes again, giggling—savoring the wind hugging her form in a blanket of security. She felt safe, despite what her parents say. The wind had always been like an embrace unlike any other._

_Her heart thudded with excitement when the gentle force on her back trailed away, tendrils of air releasing their hold onto her like fingers unfurling. With bated breath, the girl froze as her body began to tumble backwards. . ._

_And then she fell._

_The scream that escaped her throat was one mixed with exhilaration and glee. An odd reaction for a child like her falling so high up. Faster and faster, lower and lower until her vision began to zero downwards._

_There was a tree._

_"Ah!" On the last second, the wind slowed her fall and she landed on said tree, the thick of the leaves cushioning her descent akin to waiting arms. Still, she didn't stop. Branches scraped her face and hit right and left, with twigs full of leaves slapping her on the mouth. It hurt, but it was quick. A ghost of a pain than anything else._

_When it ended—and when the child fell on the last few feet—she yelped when she landed on something soft. Solid, but better than the hard ground._

_"Ow," she groaned, feeling her limbs throb and the tiny scratches sting. "That hurt."_

_It did. And yet she wanted to do it again._

_"__You know no bounds, child.__"_

_She beamed, burying her face on the soft patch of land she fell onto._

_It really was soft. . . with a nice smell. . ._

_And breathing?_

_"Um. . ."_

_Shrieking in shock, the girl bolted upright in a flash._

_Red met blue and grey._

_The girl found herself pausing. Not because of shock or embarrassment, but out of the pure reaction to stop and admire._

_It was a boy. A boy with soft cheeks and pale skin, along with the most exquisite features she'd ever seen._

_Curiosity gripped her to a fault._

_"I like your eyes." She cocked her head in thought, her young mind unable to comprehend how someone could look so beautiful with two colors of different shades. The grey was soft and light, yet startling—like the eye of a storm, while the blue was striking yet calming._

_And his hair too. With one half as white as snow whilst the other half was as red as the ripest apple._

_"I like your hair too."_

_The girl felt her cheeks warm. She was admiring a boy._

_And she was sitting on him._

_She blinked, shocked, effectively seizing her stupor as she stood back in clumsy feet. "Oh, s-sorry! Are you okay?"_

_The boy—bless him—seemed to have been frozen. Lying on the ground spread-eagled and looking at her with a gaze full of awe. The sight was comical at most, but she tried not to laugh since it would be rude. Her father did say that it was never nice to laugh at people._

_She offered a hand for him to get up. The boy flinched, the action surprisingly startling him. With a timid flush of his cheeks, he accepted the hand with his own._

_"Sorry," she apologized again once she pulled him up. "I wasn't looking. And just when I promised mama and papa to be careful today."_

_"I-It's fine. . ." His lips curled into itself as the red on his face doubled. "That was really cool."_

_"Huh?" She arched her brows, surprised, until her face immediately brightened; mouth stretching into a wide, bashful grin and eyes gleaming beneath the sun._

_She didn't know if it was okay for a person to look as red as a tomato, but since the boy looked fine while looking like one, she dismissed her worry._

_"You think so? Thank you! My parents are always worried, but I'm glad you find it cool!" She cheered, delighted on having someone compliment her. Her mother used to encourage her before, but now it was always 'control it'._

_She didn't like control._

_"Y-Yeah," the boy nodded, his own features blooming into a small smile. Shy yet warm. Her smile encouraged him. "You were so high up. It's good you're not hurt."_

_The girl waved a hand. "Don't worry. The wind takes care of me."_

_"Wind?"_

_"Yep! King takes care of me real good."_

_"K-King?"_

_"He's my friend." With one finger, the girl pointed up. "He belongs with the sky and the wind. That's what he says."_

_At her explanation, the boy glowed with admiration, his lips parting as another rosy blush peppered his cheeks. He didn't quite understand her explanation, but he knew what he saw and what he saw would always stay in his mind. From his view, her fall had look nothing but frightening to the point that he froze in terror._

_But the smile on her face said the exact opposite of dangerous._

_"Hey, I really like your hair! It looks soft. Can I touch it?"_

_"You said that already." Timidly, he shrugged. "But sure."_

_Her fingers running through his hair made the boy feel embarrassed, but the smile wouldn't leave his face. If hers stay, then his would too, he decided._

_In their excitement, they forgot about the fact that a stranger—a young girl of his age—trespassed in private property by falling from the sky._

_The girl paused, the fingers brushing through his thick locks drifting down until she touched skin. Peering closer, her lips inched upwards again when she observed that his blue eye wasn't quite_ just _blue_.

_It was like mint_.

_The rosy hue on his cheek spread wider as the girl continued to wipe her thumb on the skin beneath to his eye._

_"What's your name?"_

_"T-Todoroki Shouto."_

_"I see. Can I call you 'Shou-kun'?"_

_He beamed. "Only you."_

_"Great! Well, Shou-kun, my name is__—__"_

•

•

•

**FEAR** gripped her limbs in a vice, freezing her blood in contrast with the rapid drum of her heart, loud and deafening even as the tears refused to fall.

"L-Let me go!" Kaze cried, clawing at the door to no avail, her knees digging on the cold marble of a floor and yet, her nails continued to scratch the surface. "I-I want to go out! Let me go!"

She rapped her nails down the cold metal, unable to stop herself from crying out loud when the nail of her ring finger chipped, blood oozing out of the wound in one, tiny bubble.

It was that quick slice of pain that became the switch to loosen the dam blurring her gaze.

"H-Help," she cradled her hand to her chest. "Please. Anyone. . ."

Huddling close to the cold door, Kaze leaned her forehead against its surface, uncaring towards the grime and questionable stains caking the otherwise smooth texture in her distress. Burgundy stains that were faded with age, but the smell was strong. It hung in the air, sticking over every corner and gagging her nose with its metallic aroma. It made bile rise to her throat, but there was nothing to hurl.

Just like there was nothing to her.

In her fear, Kaze finally let the tears stream down. Nose runny, shoulders shaking, and sobs wrecking.

In more ways than one, she was lost.

The man had seized her like she was nothing but a bag of soggy potatoes, carrying her tiny frame over his hard shoulder that the joint dug too rough onto her stomach. Haru had reacted wildly, frantically pleading with the man to let her go and that meeting her by the dumpster was just an accident and nothing but. The boy kept on spouting ludicrous claims after ludicrous claims just for her sake—but she failed to catch even a word.

No.

Even though her worn bones and sore muscles adjusted to the situation, Kaze could barely handle the onslaught attack of her emotions; stabbing her right and left then high and low just to tire her mind. She didn't know where the man took her and Haru in. She didn't know why she woke up next to a dumpster nor how she got there in the first place.

She just suddenly was.

"My name," she mumbled between her sobs. "W-What. . . Who am I?"

She had no answer. Nothing to provide herself with. She tried racking her brain—rolling and scurrying through every information she could come up with a memory.

Still nothing.

A loud yell tore through her tiny throat and she banged on the door again, the physical pain blinded by the squeeze in her heart.

_'Why?!'_

She knows things. Normal, ordinary things like food, air, water, technology, places. What a stuffed toy is and what a park is, and other mundane things that hardly matter at the moment.

The only thing that matters now is her life—her identity. Yet she doesn't know a _single thing._

A name. She had needed a name to give earlier. Why did she pick that name?

Wind.

It was so random and unheard of that she didn't know if she could carry that name with certainty. How could she if she didn't know who she was.

But she doesn't have any choice.

Palms grasping the side of her head, Kaze buried her face between her knees, muffling her sobs and curling into herself to fight against the cold. Aside from the disgusting scent, the room she was thrown in was dark—dark and caging with a permanent chill that drove terror to the forefront of her brain.

Her cheeks felt stiff.

_'Think.' _She thought to herself. _'I don't want to die. Where's Haru?'_

Peering beneath her lashes, Kaze twisted herself around so that she was facing the door again, gingerly pressing her ear against the thick metal. Truthfully, anything she'd do would most likely be futile, but the desperation was gnawing at her flesh, ringing loud on her ears because—even though she woke up clueless about who she is—she knew that she's not supposed to be _here_. Neither her nor Haru, but the man had left with the boy as soon as he threw her inside this room. Kaze could hardly recognize the structure of the building they entered in the first place, but she's aware that it's secluded. Secluded and shady with other, equally terrifying men loitering the halls she caught glimpses of.

None of them reacted to her screams for help earlier.

Lips thinning, Kaze flattened herself completely against the door until her ear was pressed tight against it. She needed to get out of here. Nothing a child like her could handle whatever that's brewing here. She needed to get out, and maybe get Haru out along the way too.

The boy _did_ look just as frightened as she was. Maybe even more.

Shakily sucking in a breath, Kaze listened for anyone or anything outside her door. She didn't know what to listen for nor did she know what she should be waiting for. She just knew that there must be _something._

It was a fool's hope and she knew it, yet she kept it up either way.

Seconds ticked into minutes, and the minutes piled one after another. Her skin was prickly with the chill and the soles of her feet ached from the ground. Her eyes drooped low, sleep just inching over the corner of her eyes.

Her stomach grumbled.

Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the other side of the door. A steady _thump thump thump _that suggested authority. Kaze barely had time to shuffle away from the door before it was pushed open, the knob banging against the wall that nearly bashed her head.

She sat on her bottom facing the newcomers. It was the same man, his face still holding that sneer. However, he wasn't alone.

It was another man, significantly lankier and leaner, yet obnoxiously taller than the previous. His towering height became even more apparent when he—with slow and steady thuds of his boots—stood before her to the point that she had to crane her neck just to meet his stare.

"This is her?" Asked the tall man as he crouched before her, cocking his head gently to the side as if his mere actions pulled a ton to his energy.

The one by the door scoffed, a mere silhouette with the poor light behind him. "It was by the dumpster, right? Besides, take a look at her cheek."

The tall man did as what's told, dipping his chin to see better in the dark and in turn, she managed to see past the shadows and caught his eye.

His lone left eye. A sinister, jade green hooded with lethargy. Jet black hair—thick and cascading like silk—obscured his other eye, though a hint of white gauze peeked between the strands.

She didn't want to know how he got that.

A thoughtful hum bobbed the tall man's throat and he cocked his head again. "Her name?"

"The brat said she introduced herself as 'Kaze'."

A pause. "I see."

Like a crack of lightning, a hand suddenly clamped tight over her mouth, the palm muffling her shriek as slender fingers carved dents on either side of her cheeks, the nails biting as he tightened his grip. Kaze instinctively clutched his wrist with both hands, feeling her throat constricting in part desperation and part horror.

Gone was the lethargic slur the tall man held himself in. In its place, a tight-lipped smile eerily stretched his cheeks wide, his lone eye crinkling with false kindness. And at his touch, she felt her whole body weighed horribly heavy, as if chains of anvils shackled every inch of her bone and tossed it to the center of the earth. Her lungs stretched, her heart panicked—all in the metaphorical and literal anatomical sense.

There was pressure closing in and Kaze felt the crazed agony drown her again.

"Listen, doll," the man's smile twitched as he lowered his face towards hers, lips grazing the shell of her ear that sent disgusting crawls of electricity to riot. "I can't promise you a nice ol' life here, but be a good girl and you won't feel any pain. Much." He chuckled, deriving humor in his own private joke. "I'm getting good money for this, but if you caused enough trouble to answer my hospitality. . . well, it's not my loss, really."

"After all," he sighed. "I know a lot of people who would pay for eyes like yours." The man loosened his thumb enough to caress her cheek, tracing an invisible line beneath her eye and easily ignoring the shudder he evoked. "Kidneys and livers are common products, not to mention that it's ridiculously hard to find a buyer for hair but, hearts are incredibly expensive and always high in demand. The younger the better. Or you can stay in one piece, and we could find someone who likes your rather. . . _young_ beauty." Chuckling yet again, the man released his hold on her, giving her a moment to suck in a much-needed breath as the pressure carefully resided, freeing her limbs and flesh from rattling in and out.

There was a quiet gasp behind the tall man, prompting Kaze to believe that the other person must've been affected too. Whatever that was.

"Now," smile fading back to its disinterested frown, the tall man leaned back, elbows propped on his knees. "Tell me your name."

She only had a second to hesitate. "K-Kaze."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not—"

"Your name, **doll**."

She shut her mouth, letting whatever retort she had die on the tip of her tongue.

Doll. . . she didn't like that.

Does she even look like a doll?

"I," unable to hold his gaze, she let it fall to his boots in submission. "I don't know."

The man gave a clipped grunt, seemingly satisfied. "Your age."

"I don't know."

"Your home."

"I don't know."

"Your parents."

". . . I don't know."

He grinned. "Now, tell me your quirk."

The last one made her falter in confusion, and she glanced back at the man in question, a query posed on her lips when she paused.

At that moment, her brain leaked one information.

Quirks.

She knew what they are and what it brings. It brought all kinds of abnormalities to any individuals which soon became a normality.

Does she even have one?

Ignoring the dread churning in her stomach, Kaze averted her gaze again. "I don't know."

And in that precise second, as the green-eyed man puffed in glee with her answers, a vicious roar resounded deep in the back of her mind. Faded and muffled, as if it was locked and barred with layers of hidden walls within a maze—but it growled with a strength of irreplaceable fury.

_"__You have forgotten.__"_

For the nth time that day, Kaze shrunk with a new kind of fear.

* * *

"This is where you'll be staying from now on."

Stumbling on her own two feet, Kaze did nothing as she was shoved hard into an unknown room, only managing to catch a brief glance of the rackety place before she tripped and fell roughly on the cold floor, her cheek scrubbing against the wooden planks.

"Hey!"

A finger twitched. She knew that voice.

At the sight of one battered body being thrown unceremoniously into their room, a boy named Haru stiffened in shock—his eyes blown wide at the sudden intrusion. Children were never thrown into _their _room. None was ever an exception except them.

But he knew that battered body. Saw it lying somewhere else too, and now she was here.

"KAZE!" Haru cried, not hesitating to run towards the girl he had unknowingly involved in this hellish situation. Dropping to his knees, he gently helped the girl to sit up, noticing with a gasp that her lips were chapped and her cheeks hollow. She was dirtier than before too.

"What did you do?!" Yelled Haru, not really caring when such attitude would equal to punishment at the moment. His siblings were hissing at him to shut up, but he paid them no mind.

He was responsible for this and it was eating his conscience like a damn parasite.

Kaze forced her bleary eyes to open. _'Don't,' _she wanted to say, but her tongue was dry and her throat was blocked. The man, Zaro, Kaze learned his name was, was the man who had dragged her here in the first place. A man with a quick temper and a fist unhesitating to deliver pain if he so desires.

That room she's been in. . . Torture Room was what Zaro told her it was. And she saw people—traitors, he said—being dragged in while she huddled in a dark corner, covering her mouth and closing her eyes to shut off the sickening noises that Zaro would bring.

She doesn't want Haru, the only familiar face so far, to be subjected to those.

Yet surprisingly, Zaro turned his cheek at Haru's yell. Instead, he devoted his attention ahead, someone behind Haru. Pushing herself up to sit with the help of the shaggy ginger, Kaze finally took notice of the room she was in along with the occupants it held.

Four people including Haru were all held in the room. Three of which were boys, with one who shared the exact features as Haru—a twin, it seems. The other boy appeared older, with tuffs of the same burnt orange hair, though instead of grey, cornflower blue eyes were cautiously narrowed towards Zaro.

That boy, he was standing in front of the last occupant, the one Zaro had been staring at. A girl. The oldest too, with the same shade of eyes as the boy protecting her, though her hair was a golden blonde. Matted, stringy, and molded with grime.

All of these people shared similar facial features.

A family.

Kaze was almost envious.

"Hanabi," Zaro drawled, a hint of teeth in his cocky smirk. "I'll leave this kid to you. Make her useful."

The girl, Hanabi, recoiled in disgust, squaring her shoulders in determination even though she appeared to be as rattled as the others. Perhaps even more.

"S-She's young!" The girl cried in despair. "You've got to be joking. She couldn't be any older than the twins—"

"You got it wrong." Zaro sighed, exasperated in having to explain. But then he paused in thought. "Then again, I can't guarantee that there's no one here who's into that shit. Certainly not me, but whatever happens would be your responsibility."

The twins frowned, unable to comprehend the meaning whilst the other brother ground his teeth. Frustrated and suspicious.

Kaze observed it all, slumped against Haru's chest as he coiled one arm protectively around her shoulders.

Having said what he needed to, Zaro addressed the boy in front of the blonde girl. "We're going, Takumi. Bring your brothers."

At his words, Kaze felt Haru stiffen, his shoulders jumping in fright as Zaro turned and walked out of the room in ease. Immediately, as soon as the man was gone, Haru's twin dashed towards them, his hands frantic and grey eyes wide with frustration.

"Idiot! What did you think you were doing, yelling at Zaro like that! You're lucky you didn't get another bruise like last time."

"Shut up." Haru harrumphed, sticking his nose up in the air as he stood, pulling Kaze along with him.

"No, Kouyou's right." The eldest boy, Takumi, strode forward with a small frown, lightly slapping Haru at the back of his head as punishment. Ignoring his brother's yelp, Takumi landed his gaze on Kaze, his expression softening as a small smile lifted his frown.

Bending down to her level, Takumi gently pried her out of Haru's hold. "You must be Kaze. Haru told us about you. I'm Takumi, his older brother."

With her throat dry and her lips chapped, all Kaze could manage was a nod. Still, it was enough for Takumi as his smile widened a tad at her response. A sight so refreshing after being kept in the darkness for so long.

"Aneue will clean you up," he scanned her down, brows pinching in slight anger at the battered state she was in. "Is that okay with you?"

Again, Kaze nodded.

Looking around the tiny space of the room, Kaze observed it to be quite plain. Faded colors and worn knickknacks with three rickety beds and a single dresser. She noticed another door on the left side of the room that she assumed led to a bathroom, then a lone window nailed with planks on the right, though tiny streams of light peaked through the cracks. The only source of light it seems, aside from the weak bulb above.

Takumi led her to one of the beds, the one tucked in the left corner. The other two were situated across the room. Kaze assumed this bed belonged to their sister, namely because the latter was waiting for her by the foot of the bed.

Her name was Hanabi, Kaze recalled.

The girl took Kaze by the shoulders, crouching down with a sad smile on her young face.

"I'm sorry."

Kaze blinked. _'Say something.' _"I-It's. . .n—"

Hanabi frowned. "Kouyou, get me a glass of water, please?"

Haru's twin nodded. "Got it."

In a flash, Kouyou stalked out of the room, making Kaze widen her eyes. Bad people were all over the place.

Wouldn't he get hurt?

"Don't worry," Hanabi answered her worries, willing another smile on her face. "They won't hurt him."

"They need us." Haru mumbled with a pout, arms crossed as he sat on the bed across Hanabi's.

Kaze didn't understand that. What could grown men need for in children? The tall man had made it clear that her presence here was nothing but a bargain—that they got Haru to unknowingly ensure it was her before dragging her in this place. She didn't know what made her existence valuable to this extent, but it was clear that she was more like a burden than anything else.

What about these people?

In a matter of seconds, Kouyou came back with a tall glass of water, panting and shaky, but nonetheless fine.

"Here," he walked towards Kaze and handed the glass with his own smile. "Let me know if you need more."

The glass was already tall. Thick too, with a hefty handle to hold onto. And when Kaze took it, it felt heavy.

It was more water than she had in a while. She drank in greedy gulps.

"T-Thank. . . you." She breathed out, grateful. Kouyou simply gave her another grin, which she smiled in return.

Despite his identical features with Haru, Kouyou looked to be less unruly in appearance. His hair tamed and short compared to Haru's shaggy tangles, and his eyes a little bit angled compared to Haru's round ones.

"Let's go." Takumi suddenly called, jerking his head towards the door again. "Zaro's waiting."

"W-Where?" Kaze cleared her throat, swallowing down the sandpaper feeling in her throat in her effort to speak.

Haru eyed her with a somber look. "Like I said, they need us."

Kouyou's smile dropped. "We should go."

Wordlessly, Takumi averted his gaze, turning his cheek to mask his expression before Kaze could even see it. She watched as the older boy walked out of the door, the twins begrudgingly following until, one by one, they all disappeared out of her sight. The last Kaze saw was Haru peeking over his shoulder to look at her.

_We'll be back_, he mouthed.

The door clicked shut after his warm smile.

With a gulp, Kaze gripped her glass tight. Worried for the people who had shown her kindness, and scared since they'll be in the presence of Zaro.

Would the tall man be there? Kaze hoped not.

The hand on her shoulder tightened a little, making Kaze flinch as she had forgotten about the other girl in this room.

Gently, Hanabi took the half-empty glass in Kaze's grip and set it on the dresser, her jaw taut with her own worry for her brothers. Nonetheless, she managed a grin. "Let's get you cleaned up and fed. Haru's been worried all week about you, so why don't we fix you up so you can settle down here. You can sleep with me on my bed, is that alright?"

Kaze glanced up at the blonde, startled. "A. . . week?"

Hanabi paused.

"I—down there. . . for a week?" Kaze sagged, lips tilting down as she processed that information. Everything down there was dark and dank all the time—and the smell so putrid she could barely focus on anything else. Time blurred with each person brought down to be beaten, the seconds stretching to eternity until she didn't know anymore, and the food given to her were little and small in ratio. Just enough to keep her conscious.

But it was always Zaro. Zaro with his hard boots on her back and his fingers buried in her hair telling her to quit her crying.

A week of that, and she had no idea.

Hanabi looked down at the girl with sympathy, knowing fully well just how horrible things could be here.

It was the basement. Heart of the headquarters.

"Come on," Hanabi encouraged. "Let's get you clean."

With a distracted nod, Kaze let Hanabi lead her to the other door. It was a small bathroom like she had guessed, with barely any essentials, but at least it was clean.

However, Kaze was struck frozen when she caught sight of the mirror in front of her, innocently sitting above the sink in all its rectangular glory. Foggy along the edges, yet still clear for her to stare.

She gawked.

"What's wrong?" Concerned, Hanabi scowled, looking between Kaze and the mirror in confusion.

Kaze parted her mouth to answer, but no words came out._ 'My face.'_

She finally had one answer to her mountain of questions.

With unsteady feet, Kaze stumbled closer until she caught the sink with one hand, raising the other to shakily touch her cheeks and slide her fingers through her hair.

"This is. . . m-my face." Kaze absentmindedly mumbled, relieved beyond belief.

Hanabi frowned, looking back at the mirror once more and pinning her attention there. She watched as the child tentatively clutch a strand of her ebony black hair between her fingers, entranced despite its unkempt state. Pale, thin fingers followed the length down until it ended by her collarbone and Kaze paused, frozen as she rubbed the tips. Mesmerized.

Hanabi watched as Kaze release her grip on the sink, one hand still in her hair whilst the other wiped the pads of her fingers down her jaw, up her cheek, and along one thin eyebrow. There was a hint of hesitation before she traced the shape of her wide, almond eyes. Hanabi thought that the girl has attractive eyes, angled with thick lashes suitable for the purest shade of black of her hair. And the color—the color itself was mesmerizing, Hanabi thought.

A dark cherry hue.

"Do I look like a doll?"

Surprised by the sudden question, Hanabi met Kaze's gaze through the mirror, biting her lip when those cherry eyes looked at her with so much pained wonder.

"No." Hanabi shook her head. "You don't."

"Good." Kaze nodded, releasing a small exhale that held all her tension. But then, she remembered Haru's words on the day he found her by the dumpster, when his finger poked her cheek with another question.

She focused on the mirror again.

There, on her right cheek just beneath her eye, was a writing character akin to that of a hook peppered by three dashes above it.

There was a pulse in her memory. A familiar character just at the edge of her mind.

"W-What. . . does it say?"

Hanabi arched a brow at the question, though didn't comment. She looked back down at the kanji etched on Kaze's cheek. She hadn't paid attention to the odd marking earlier, assuming that it must've been one of Zaro's irrational mockery, but then she recalled Haru spouting something ridiculous about a character he didn't know how to read. One she had dismissed quickly since she knew that the twins had lost their opportunity to start elementary.

It wasn't any unique kanji. A rather simple one, really. One she learned back in second grade.

"It says 'heart', Kaze-chan."

* * *

Living in this place—cleaning and following Hanabi around to tend to listless chores—gave the girl enough time to adjust to her new name: Kaze.

Day after day, she got up after the blonde, waking up the twins and Takumi while Hanabi would prepare their breakfast. There was a routine already, one that she easily slipped into since she knew nothing else.

Wake up, eat, bathe, clean the whole day while avoiding anyone else, sleep.

A damp routine. Yet, it gave her time. Enough so that she became comfortable in identifying herself to her new name; simmered after her frustrations proved to be fruitless, though getting used to her appearance was another peculiar and lengthy ordeal. Overall, it took her weeks to quell her shock every time she caught a glimpse of her reflection, having either Hanabi or Haru to snap her back in reality. But when it did end, Kaze often wondered if a person should feel this detached under their skin.

As if she was incomplete. Somehow, in some way.

Like she was just born on the day Haru found her.

Her age soon became another question, but since everyone piled her together with the twins, Kaze eventually settled with having the same age as them: six. A small number of years, yet—she surmised—were definitely filled with a life she had before. If that was even the correct number.

Some times, Kaze imagined. She pictured a mother and a father, the traditional doting parents and sweet grandparents who pampered her to no end. Maybe a sibling or two to play with.

Sweet thoughts, yet it never brought a smile to her face. Frankly speaking, it was difficult to imagine people she couldn't pin a face on, but she tried.

Was her family even worried?

As the days passed, Kaze tossed the idea out of the window.

It was just less painful to hope than to pry for the truth. Come to think of it, Kaze didn't even want to know how she ended up by the dumpster.

Was she thrown away?

Like a _doll?_

It took a month for Hanabi to learn about Kaze's blank memories due to the latter blanking out a lot during chores; her eyes staring wistfully whenever Hanabi would beam brightly at Kouyou for his help or when Takumi would ruffle Haru's hair in jest.

When the blonde asked what's wrong, the confession slipped between Kaze's teeth without any conscious thought.

She wanted a family—_her _family, but she couldn't add that to Hanabi's worries. Still, the blonde's reaction had been stark determination to help Kaze get her memories back.

Hope flared. But at the same time, doubt did too. Kaze frowned. "No, it's fine."

"No, it's not. Even just a little will do. Don't you want that?"

"But I can make new memories with you."

". . . You don't mean that, do you?"

She didn't.

It was a nice thought, but neither she nor Hanabi could imagine a life full of memories in this place, even though that's the road they seemed to be heading. Kaze didn't want her whole life centered here, but for all she knew, it _began _here.

Once Takumi and the twins caught on about her missing memories, all siblings had been the same: bent on pushing little things to trigger something in the back of Kaze's mind. A name, a place, a date, a face—anything.

In their desperation, anything at all will do.

After three more months of that fiasco, Kaze made them stop. It took a whole lot of convincing, but she managed.

Besides, nothing was working and they had more pressing matters to worry about other than her memories.

Such as their survival, for one.

Living for four months with the siblings in this dreary place was enough for Kaze to unearth their situation just as they did hers. Once upon a time, their parents had been heroes. It took a while for her to skim through her brain looking for the definition of a hero, but she got it.

A hero was, literally speaking, _a hero_. A comic-book-sort-of hero that has become a profession now that quirks exist. However, during an attempted rescue in one of the transportation for human trafficking led by the tall man himself, the siblings lost their parents.

The tall man found them and took them in, mainly because of the brothers' quirks. And they've been trapped here since.

"We were here a year before you came." They said.

Kaze blanched. How can a person answer that?

It was then did Kaze painfully learned about the brothers' involvement with Zaro and his crimes. It had been a painfully difficult information to stomach in, the denial in her so strong that it hurt to even think about it.

It took her days to digest that fact and accept it as reality, yet she still couldn't face them. Aghast and disbelieving—stubborn emotions that sparked whenever it wanted.

But when she heard Takumi cry to himself to sleep one night when he thought no one was awake made Kaze reprocess her thoughts.

Takumi's quirk had been the most useful to Zaro's crimes. At his touch and will, he could make any person a ghost—metaphorically speaking. Everyone and anyone who knew of that certain individual, they'd forget about them. All their records and the marks they left in this world would be erased.

Essentially eradicating them from this world without a trace nor force necessary.

With a quirk like that, the people Zaro and his men kidnapped wouldn't be labeled as 'missing' because everyone would forget about them. As if they never existed in the first place. The police wouldn't know and the heroes would remain oblivious, thinking that their peace was undisturbed and the crimes dwindling to a low.

He was just _perfect._

Kaze saw how it ate Takumi. The thought of making all those people lose their home, their family, their life—having society forget about them as a whole before these people, some as young and innocent as children, get shipped off to be sold.

That fact alone crushed Takumi's spirit to insanity.

That night, when a muffled sob managed to escape past his gritted teeth, Kaze carefully got up from her spot beside Hanabi and tiptoed towards Takumi's bed.

Once she was certain that Takumi—a mere ten-year-old boy—was unaware of her advance, Kaze slipped beneath his blankets and buried her face to his chest, taking the second he froze to drape an arm across his stomach.

Her distasteful reaction had affected him a lot, but now she would have to make up with him.

"K-Kaze?"

She frowned against his clothed chest, thoroughly disliking the way his voice broke. So vulnerable. So fragile. So unlike the stern and gentle brother he is towards them all.

His burden was just too great.

The twins' involvement wasn't much. They just provide illusions. Camouflage. Giving the public a picture of serenity when in truth, Zaro and his men were already raiding the place. They didn't go as often as Takumi would since they barely knew how to properly wield their quirk, and their illusion—even combined—could only last for a total of ten minutes. Not much time at all.

Hanabi was quirkless. Zaro's organization kidnap quirkless people _specifically_.

In order to protect their sister, the brothers have to cooperate.

That was reality. The ugly face of reality that Kaze now recognizes. Now, she'll have to accept it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Takumi's breath hitched. "No, you don't have to apologize. I know it's not right—"

"I know." She buried her face further into his chest. "But let me share your pain, please? You've done that for me, then I'll do it for you."

It took a while, but at his nod, she smiled.

In that one night—squeezing Takumi as he cried—Kaze let the older boy wrap his arms around her in return, futilely seeking comfort as he buried his face in her hair to muffle his sobs. She cried with him—_for_ him, neither caring that she was soaking his shirt.

The next morning, Hanabi woke them up, not even asking as to how Kaze ended up in Takumi's bed. Haru and Kouyou didn't know (snoring away in their own bed), but either way, neither she nor Takumi spoke of it.

He was just grateful. And whenever Kaze would wake up to his cries again, she'd go down and repeat her actions.

It became a routine of sorts.

Meanwhile, Kaze's relationship with the twins was simple. In a sense, the 'twins' became 'triplets'.

Haru reached for her attention in his own pouty and huffy way. Kouyou wasn't as outspoken as his younger twin, but he treated Kaze the same; quietly following her (and Haru, since he drags her with him) everywhere and anywhere as long as he could.

Whenever Takumi was called out in a mission and Hanabi was handling domestic chores around the building that didn't need Kaze's help, she would be with the twins. They would go out doing whatever it is that pleased them since Zaro and his men were gone. Each mission was a breath of fresh air for them, and they'd run and make the most of it with games: a game of questions; a game of hide-and-seek; a game of who gets to help Hanabi the most.

But most of the time, they played a game of mystery.

"It's simple!" Haru explained with a serious nod. "We go around the place and find mysterious things. See?"

"Just find something that's strange," Kouyou whispered to her after his twin stomped away.

She smiled. "Got it."

Kaze was certain that it was all just a ruse to look for a clue to help them escape. But they were guarded—imprisoned with men stronger than them with quirks more powerful than theirs ever could be.

Still, looking at Kouyou's eyes and watching Haru stumble around, Kaze knew that the twins remained hopeful. They may not hear Takumi's cries at night nor do they fully understand their sister's sacrifice, but they were determined to look for a way out.

A way to end their misery and live a normal life.

It was admirable, though Kaze hated seeing their face fall every time they failed. She always vowed to try extra harder the next time they'd 'play'. For months, Kaze accompanied them whenever possible, until she went around doing it by herself when they'd tag along with Takumi on a mission.

It was around that time that Kaze began to learn.

She learned that the building they were in contained five floors plus the basement. And in each floor held several rooms, a layout akin to that of a hotel. In each floor, one room became a makeshift kitchen, reserving the ground floor as the epicenter to the organization's illegalities. Kaze and the siblings stayed on the second floor in the farthest room, with their floor's room-turned-kitchen fortunately located five doors to their left. The rest above belonged to the rooms of Zaro and his men.

Except for the tall man. Kaze could never find out where he isolates himself all the time. Every glimpse she'd seen of him next were the edge of his shadows passing. And every time that happens, fear would clog her lungs and stop her heart.

They were cornered. And _he _was watching.

It was thoughts like that that fuelled Kaze to explore beyond what's necessary.

She was small. Smaller than even the twins.

Which meant that she got into tight spaces without being seen.

Kaze tried the vents, from the ground floor until the third. Had even made a sketch to the vents' maze until she had it mentally engraved to discard the stained papers. When that wasn't enough, she took note of regular routines happening around her. There wasn't much 'routine', per se, but she did note one thing.

Whenever Zaro would announce a full-scale mission, that usually meant Takumi and the twins would join along with most of his men. Excluding the tall man and Zaro, Kaze counted around twenty-six criminals lurking about. Twelve would always remain to guard the base in a full-scale mission. Afterwards, Zaro would gather his men—the brothers included—in their presumed meeting area in the ground floor to recap a plan thoroughly before they'll head out.

Leaving the path to the basement loosely guarded.

At that time, Kaze had only been living there for ten months, but she remembered that time as clear as day.

She had a thought. A fleeting, wayward thought. Ridiculous, almost, but it seized her with determination and brimmed her with hope. Escaping down the basement in one go would be futile. But if she would scatter down there every time a meeting conjured, then she could find a way until an escape is ready for them.

A loose wall. A weak brick. A locked, abandoned door. Anything at all.

If there's none, then maybe she could make a route.

All Kaze knew was that opportunity was slim—and _that_ was opportunity. They could make something out of nothing!

Kaze nearly bounced in her excitement to relay her plan, running upstairs and bumping onto Hanabi who was on her way out of their room at the moment.

She remembered clearly how hope made them both freeze. But then she remembered how it all crashed too.

"No."

"What? But, Hanabi! Don't you understand? We can make a way out—"

"No, Kaze. You can't go down to the basement. _No one _goes down to the basement, or did you forget what happened to you down there before?"

Kaze flinched at the reminder. "But—"

"The basement has two levels." Hanabi stuck out her chin, her decision final. "You've only been in the first and i-it's not—the second level's just—" frustrated, the blonde released a shaky exhale. "Just. . . don't go down there."

"Why?"

"It'll change you."

Hanabi left it at that, and Kaze didn't have the heart to push. Not against Hanabi. Hanabi, whom Kaze realized acted more like a mother than a sister. At least, to her.

Besides, she couldn't remember hers.

Hanabi was the closest one Kaze would probably ever have.

* * *

**1 year later**

* * *

"We didn't celebrate last year, but it's okay since we got you to make up for it!"

Puzzled yet amused, Kaze sat with her legs crossed on the twin's bed, cherry red eyes watching Haru as he furiously tried to tame his unruly hair. The poor comb could barely rake through the knotted strands even after he showered. They all just did.

She scrunched her nose when he winced. "Is it really all right?"

"Huh?"

"Celebrating with you. Is it?"

As if appalled, Haru gaped at her question with a mock glare, though the effect was lost when he accidentally yanked his hair with the comb. "OW!"

"Idiot." With a snort, Kouyou plopped himself beside Kaze, leaning one shoulder against hers as he held two plates each filled with steaming rice and three rolls of tamagoyaki and pickled plums. He held one plate towards her. "Here. And stop asking, we already decided, right? You agreed."

"I did, I guess." Reluctantly, Kaze took the plate, setting it on her lap as she took the pair of chopsticks sitting on the edge of her plate. "So, does that mean I'm seven now?"

"Don't be stupid!" Haru exclaimed as he threw away the comb, giving up on his hair in favor of crashing on Kaze's other side. "You're technically just one-year-old!"

She arched a brow. "Then why do you act more like a baby than me?"

There was a stutter as Haru recoiled in shock.

"Haru, I'm eating your food." Kouyou nonchalantly stated, effectively cutting off whatever retort Haru had in store.

"I dare you!"

"All right."

"Hey!"

"Cut it out!" At that moment, Takumi walked out of the bathroom, rubbing a tiny towel on his damp locks. "Aneue made a plate for each for you, so quit it." He paused, eyeing the trio huddled together. "Haru, you're supposed to fix your hair."

All Takumi received was a whine. "But it hurts!"

"I don't care. Aneue says to fix your hair, so fix it."

Grumbling to himself, Haru wrinkled his nose, yet pushed himself off the bed with a pout either way.

Kaze hid her smirk by dipping her chin, stuffing a small clump of rice in her mouth to stifle her chuckle. Beside her, Kouyou grinned.

Today was the third of February. A full year and a month since her capture and for the most part, today had been honestly the brightest day Kaze ever had as of yet.

It was the twins' birthday, the day they turn seven and—since none of them even had a clue as to when hers will be—they all decided to celebrate hers with them. It had been Takumi to suggest it first a week ago, the notion having been a passing murmur until Kouyou actually asked her.

The subject of her missing memories remained a hovering plague above their heads, yet Kaze refused to even poke around it.

But this. . .

This she found nice.

This morning, she woke up with a grinning Hanabi, her foggy mind registering the blonde's gentle voice in a birthday song. Confused as a chick, Kaze had gotten up groggily while the twins immediately tackled Takumi—who had been the one singing for them at the same time.

A happy morning. Like a family.

Chewing slowly on her egg, Kaze peered between strands of her hair, a smile hidden by her hand.

There was only one person missing now. "Where's Hanabi?"

Kaze recalled the blonde saying that she prepared their birthday breakfast in secret. A fact that now worried Kaze. Zaro may be a jerk, but he doesn't really waste his time tormenting them all day.

His men, however, were a different subject.

Other people, Kaze deduced, just thrived in making others miserable to a fault. Zaro's minions would throw a fit once they found out that their 'supplies' had lessened. The rules had been implemented in her mind the second Kaze had been helping around. Once, she tried trying on some fruits she saw in the kitchen, a juicy-looking tangerine that had her mouth watering and her curiosity piqued. She hadn't noticed there was someone entering when she stretched on her toes to reach.

The scratch on her leg was her reminder never to try again.

For the most part, the only food they were allowed to have was bread or broth.

Lips pursing in agitation the more her mind dwell, Kaze turned towards Takumi, chopsticks nimbly picking on one egg. "Is this okay?"

For a second, blue eyes widened at her question just as Kouyou paused from his chewing.

Takumi wiped his error with a wide smile. "Of course."

Kaze felt her appetite diminish in a second. _'No, it's not,' _was what she wanted to say.

"Where's Hanabi?"

Licking his lips, Takumi sat on his bed and began munching on his stale bread. "Cleaning."

Kouyou shared a look with his twin, lowering his chopsticks from his lips as Haru took his own plate placed on the dresser. With a frown, the younger twin strode towards Takumi and fell to sit beside him.

Kaze stared as Kouyou stood too.

"Want to share?" Haru mumbled.

"It's too much," Kouyou added.

There was a pang in her chest as Kaze watched the brothers, their frowns gradually fading into grins as they shared the very first real meal they had after a long time. She looked down on her plate, at the half-eaten omelet rolls, scattered rice, and her askew chopsticks. The flavors had tasted so beautifully on her eager tongue, like a burst of fireworks after relying on faded remnants of the only information left in the corner of her brain.

Even just eggs and rice tasted marvelous.

With a nod, Kaze split her rice and set aside of what's left of the tamagoyaki.

She gave the half to Hanabi who came back an hour later to share the meal.

* * *

After their hearty breakfast and lax afternoon, the brothers were called to accompany a group to a mission. Kaze hadn't batted an eye. Other than giving the boys a hug and a reminder to be safe, she went back to cleaning with Hanabi, her mood undeterred even as she scrubbed the walls of a bathroom on the third floor.

"Kaze-chan?"

Wiping her forehead with her arm, Kaze looked over her shoulder, her brows jumping when she saw a rather jittery Hanabi gripping a basket full of dirty laundry.

Kaze frowned. "Why are your clothes like that?"

Hanabi glanced down with a gasp, prompting Kaze to be even more alarmed at such reaction.

She had only meant that the blonde's shirt appeared to be hanging off her shoulders while her pants looked rumpled.

A hint of blue by Hanabi's elbow had Kaze paling. "Hanabi, what's that on your—"

"Look," Hanabi cleared her throat, feet shuffling as she refused to meet Kaze's gaze. "I-I'll just be cleaning upstairs, all right? When you're done with all the rooms for today, go back to our room as soon as you can, okay? Don't wait for me if it's late. I. . . I have a lot to clean t-today."

Kaze was surprised. Hanabi had always refused to let the younger girl out of her sight if Takumi and the twins weren't here, but now the blonde was letting her clean by herself for the whole day, unattended.

It wasn't fear for her own that Kaze felt as she sat there.

"You got that, Kaze-chan?" There was a hint of plea in Hanabi's tone, yet the hardened decision mingled left no room for argument.

"Sure." She mumbled, hesitant.

As Hanabi left after one jerky nod, Kaze tried to kill the regret drowning her heart for having not asked why the blonde was crying.

Hanabi didn't even look like she knew she was.

_'I'll ask her later,' _Kaze nodded to herself, desperate to hold in her own tears as her fingers began to tremble. _'Before we go to bed, I'll ask and make her smile.'_

* * *

A creak from above was what woke her up.

Thick lashes fluttering as she came to, Kaze groggily pushed herself up, rubbing one corner of her eye with a yawn as she looked around, her vision fuzzy with sleep and obscured by the night, but she could detect the shapes and clumps making their room.

The two beds across from hers were empty.

A frown pulled her lips. It's past midnight and the boys still weren't back yet.

Reaching behind her, Kaze meant to shake Hanabi awake with her concerns when her fingers met nothing but air.

"Hanabi?"

Kaze blinked, more awake now that she registered the lack of warmth behind her. Concern clashed with panic, churning her stomach in dread as she realized she's alone at night for the very first time ever.

Another creak above made Kaze gasp in shock.

"H-Hanabi. . .?"

_Creak_.

Making up her mind, Kaze slid out of the bed, flinching when her toes slapped against the cold floor in her descent. Nonetheless, she carefully sought her way out of the room, reaching out her small hands to guide her way through the darkness. The creak was coming from above their room.

Hanabi must be there.

Going out of the hall, Kaze shrugged off the terror clouding her judgment when total darkness swallowed her whole. She kept her hands against the wall to guide her while going by memory to head to the stairs. The journey wasn't hard. Cold and scary, maybe, but not difficult.

The dread in her stomach was just making it impossible.

_'It's nothing, Kaze. Just walk.' _The silence was starting to unnerve her, though. Making the only sound known was the rapid pounding of her heart against her ribcage.

Once the stairs ended, Kaze found light pouring out from one room. A gentle, silvery light like that of a firefly. The moon.

Relieved, Kaze rushed towards the room, thinking that the blonde must be cleaning late as she said. The rest of Zaro's men must be around the base somewhere doing their own job, so she knew that must be Hanabi making all those noises.

Her feet made no noise at all despite her clumsy running, almost stumbling in her hurry.

Yet, as soon as Kaze reached the door, she froze.

Her knees locked, her shoulders sagged, and her smile fell.

She clamped both hands to her mouth.

That night, the moonlight was cruel to her eyes. The clear windows offered full access of the silvery beam to shine the room.

And a clear vision of the figures on the bed.

_". . . please. . . !"_

Kaze couldn't take her eyes off the scene, her shoulders quaking in harsh tremors that made her feel almost weightless. The creak that woke her up was the bed—rocking and scrapping all four of its feet against the floor in disturbing scratches; the headboard furiously banging against the wall that belied the strength of a beast, cracks of dry paint snowing down like peppers. Shadows filtered each slapping motion, and yet it only sharpened the arc of a back: merciless, gigantic and rigid with frightening muscle; corded and bulky and bigger than her own head.

Kaze yearned for herself to look away—_screamed_ at herself to look away.

Yet she couldn't keep her eyes away from Hanabi's face sobbing against a pillow while the man above her moved in cruel jolts.

_"S. . . stop!"_

Behind her hands, Kaze whimpered in agony.

She didn't understand. In her young mind, she failed to grasp as to what's happening. But Hanabi was hurting—crying against the pillow while the man above laid his filthy hands all over her, gripping and palming that it sent shivers of disgust down Kaze's spine.

Rooted on the spot, Kaze squeezed her eyes shut.

"Don't close your eyes."

Gentle, like the coy maleficence of tonight's moon, a large hand laid on top hers covering her mouth from behind. Kaze's eyes flew open in stuttering shock, glancing to the side just to see who had crouched down behind her.

She screamed behind her hands.

It was the tall man.

He grinned. "That's it. Now look."

She didn't want to, but he took her chin with his other hand and forced her gaze to go back to the horrid sight again.

"See that, doll?" The man nuzzled her cheek, lips against her ear as he closed his one eye. "That's rape. It's best for you to learn it already since that girl taking it is quite experienced."

He chuckled at the child's shudder.

"It's not really my thing, but I can't control the desires of my comrades now, can I? Besides, he's happy!" He gave a false cheer in his voice, the fingers on her chin gripping tighter when she started to squirm. "Now, doll, your brothers don't know about this thanks to Hanabi-chan's efforts. So if you could just honor her dignity, keep those lips of yours sealed, okay?"

Kaze swallowed the lump in her throat. How could she _not _tell? They're hurting Hanabi! But the tall man seemed to be assured of her cooperation as he stood back up, giving one lick over the shell of her ear as a farewell.

Standing so close to her up front, Kaze felt like an ant, her body frozen as she succumbed to the familiar hold of fear.

He grinned. "You should pray that the guy who put you in our care would get you sooner rather than later, doll. Because if he didn't and you grew up here," with a pause, he gestured towards the horrible scene happening before them. "Then, I guess you'll know what to expect. I might even consider my preference and get a taste. . . I mean, with that look you're making, you're tempting me here."

She lost all the color in her cheeks.

The tall man left with a deep chuckle, leaving as the hideous_ pig _above Hanabi yelled a boisterous roar, and the blonde clenched her fists around the pillow at the pain.

When the tall man glanced back, Kaze was gone.

* * *

True to the man's claim, Kaze didn't speak about that night—couldn't even bear to look at Hanabi right without feeling the guilt worm its way around her chest. Takumi had been concerned, but relented after a wave of Hanabi's hand the next day. The twins remained oblivious.

Kaze hated it all.

She hated the man. Hated Zaro. Hated every single criminal in this building. She hated seeing Hanabi mask her pain just to assure her brothers. She hated hearing Takumi cry to himself at night. She hated seeing the twins' hope dwindle every time they failed at looking for a way out.

Kaze hated it all.

But what could she do? A seven-year-old, quirkless nothing? She couldn't do _anything._

She wanted them happy, not suffering. Living, not surviving.

She kept her silence about that night, but she knew that Hanabi's aware of her knowledge. The way that the blonde treated her was different now. Reserved, almost, and ashamed.

All her efforts were for nothing, though. Her silence all for naught when she and the brothers woke up one day to hear Hanabi retching her stomach in the bathroom.

* * *

**_*Aneue = means 'older sister', if you guys didn't know yet. Though it's a traditional and a rather outdated term._**

**_*Tamagoyaki = omelette/egg rolls_**


	3. Origin (Part 1)

_warnings: **teenage pregnancy; early motherhood; mentions, implications & mild descriptions of child abuse; implied human & child trafficking; implied torture (if you squint); overall dark themes.**_

**Please heed the warnings. This chapter is separated into two parts, with this half being the bulkier of the two.**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

**"There's not a lot of good people in this world, isn't there."**

* * *

_Todoroki Shouto sat questioning his very existence on his bed; wallowing on his cracked purpose and value, and just how uncannily unfair life is._

_Has it really been a year?_

_Cautious fingers traced the puckered skin surrounding his left eye, all the way down to the apple of his cheek._

_Another shudder of rage ran down his spine._

_Yes. It has been a year_—_yet it felt more_.

_His father. . . his father had ruined _everything—_took__ away every fiber of his happiness without fail. His mother was gone, shipped off to a hospital like a loon; his siblings were strangers to him, unable to brave the sight of their own father._

_All that was left was the agony. The agony and himself_—_and i__t was cold, a shivering murmur that made him feel empty, yet hot at the same time. A churning hell that fed the seed of anger sowed inside of him._

_It was all because of his father._

_His fault. All of it._

_A strangled snarl clumped his throat and __Shouto__ fisted his sheets._

_It was so unfair!_

_The curtains to his window blew a little with the night breeze, reminding __the young boy__ that he had yet pulled down the clear pane of glass shut in his haste to cage himself in his room after another day of rigorous training. _

_Then again, he hasn't closed his window for a very long time now, not since he met her._

_Against his better judgment, hope bloomed in his chest, only to be cruelly squashed down when __nothing_—_or__ rather no one followed after the billow of his curtains; flimsy translucent fabric dully furling about with the whispered wind._

_Shouto__ sagged, disappointed._

_He would've given anything have her presence soothe his ache, her warmth around his while they played in the air, fireflies between their fingers as if they were lulled by the melody of their hushed laughter. _

_And her smile. Shouto would love to see her smile too._

_But the absence of knuckles rapping against his window or the sound of small feet landing on his floor was gone. _She's_ gone._

_Not a single visit for about a year now too. _

_Yet, in his moment of despair_,_ Shouto clung onto the memories of her. Their time spent on his roof, gazing at the stars. Sometimes stories were exchanged. Sometimes, they'd spend it in silence after a particularly bad day, eased by their comforting presence. _

_Then sometimes, to his absolute favorite, she would invite him with her, and he'd take her hand as she guided them both along with the calming night breeze. He actually touched a cloud once._

_It was soft. Like her hair._

_The very memory of her was the only shred of happiness left in him_—_a surviving candle in the cold_—_and he didn't want to forget that. Never._

_In the darkness, __Shouto__ wondered when she will come back again. The girl who fell from the sky._

_His angel._

•

•

•

**THE **base of her spine screamed in protest as the ugly slap of skin hitting concrete echoed within the room and she winced, teeth digging on the bottom of her lip to rein in the shriek of pain.

Adamant, Kaze glared through the strands of her hair, like peaking between blinds with heated passion. A passion synonymous to rage.

"_You took her away!_" The snarl was something unheard of from her, yet Kaze pursued. Ignorant of the large hand gripping her collar and keeping her glued against the wall, feet way off the floor and she cared none for that.

She dug her nails on the thick wrist connecting to the hand hoisting her up. "You hurt her and now she's gone! YOU TOOK HER AWA—"

"Brat!"

The man broke her yell by digging his knuckles closer to her throat, no hint of mercy even before a defenseless child. It was her fault anyway; barging in his room with the nerve of a raging bull now that her siblings were gone—the boys off to do their jobs while the girl. . .

Well, he didn't really care where the blonde bimbo went to.

"Y-You'll pay. . . !" Kaze choked out, fruitlessly raking her nails down the length of his arm with the clear intention to inflict pain.

The tiny hiss he gave spouted a fountain of satisfaction within her. But it was not enough.

Not yet.

Not ever.

"Why you little bitch!"

Legs thrashing even with the lack of air slowing her movements, Kaze wriggled in an effort to free herself from the choking hold, the sound of her blood pumping in her ears drowning away the threats aimed at her.

She wanted to hurt him. She wanted him on his knees—helpless, meek, vulnerable.

Broken.

Kaze desired for it more than anything at the moment, eager to see him squirm and reduced to a crumpled mess. Just like what he had done to Hanabi that night. He deserved it and everything more. Her wrath would see to it.

In addition to that, her cheek felt itchy—twitchy. Sparking a migraine that illogically connected to the strained balloon in her lungs.

"You'll pay. . ." She panted, vision glassy yet unyielding. "Y-You jerk. . . pig!"

Snarling, the man lifted her higher, her weight an insignificant feather as the fingers clutching the collar of her shirt nearly poked through the grey fabric. "Who do you think are, huh?! Quirkless brats like you piss me off, thinking they can fight us. Thinking _they're _superior to us." Nose nearly touching hers, the growl he emitted from his throat stenched of alcohol. Stale and putrid. He grinned watching her squirm. "But guess what, kid? I'm done letting quirkless morons like you act as if they rule me. So get this through your thick head—" he jerked his hand to thump the back of her head against the wall. "—you're weak, and there's _nothing_ you can do about it."

"No—"

"SHUT IT!" Her shoulders squealed at the twinge when he shoved her more against the wall. "What are you going to do, huh?! Worthless shits like you can't do crap, and you think you can save her?!"

There was a pause; a silence filled with dry sobs and cherry eyes dark and blurry.

She wanted him to be wrong.

She wanted to _believe _that he was wrong.

But he's not. The truth was the truth and it pricked Kaze's heart like spikes of ice to hear that. The blood in her veins was far from special, and her stature made her an ant compared to these gargantuan criminals.

She's alive because of some money on her head.

She's alive because the brothers work for their survival.

From the very beginning, Kaze knew what she was.

A burden.

"Dao."

Startled, the man loosened his grip on her collar, enough to let her fall and crumble on the floor. Yet aside from a disgruntled groan, Kaze barely acknowledged the fall with her troubling thoughts. She barely even registered the man, Dao, turn to acknowledge his boss.

The tall man.

A simple glance was all it took for her fresh anger to return. Subdued, but still throbbing.

Kaze wrinkled her nose.

In his usual sloth energy, the tall man took his time scuffling in on silent feet, shoulders slack and hands limp inside the pockets of his pants. He kept his eye on the girl, a cross of disapproval clear in the twist of his frown when he lifted his inquiring stare back to his subordinate.

"What are you doing, Dao?" He stopped, head cocked as he impatiently waited for an answer.

Dao gave a scoff, the crack in his bravado obvious when he subconsciously bowed his head, eyes of bark brown lowering in submission. "The brat barged into my room, boss."

"That's not what I asked," Sighing, the tall man's lone eye drifted close, as if this very conversation bore him to no end. "I don't need to remind you that this is your fault, you brought this upon yourself. I told you to do it like the others."

The grin Dao displayed was malicious. "I like my fun _raw_, boss."

Without meaning to, the image of that night slammed into the forefront of Kaze's brain—her mind's eye drinking in the cruel light of the moon; the mocking contrast of sharp shadows; the slick friction of skin against skin; the purplish blues blooming on Hanabi's flesh. The cries. The bellows.

Hanabi's tears.

Curling her hands into fists was all Kaze could do to rein in her rage.

The tall man was just as amused as she was.

"Your 'raw' fun is what causing Zaro some trouble right now." Frown inching deeper, the man dragged himself towards Kaze, bending down to grasp her by the arm before pulling her up.

There was barely any force in his actions, but his grip alone was enough for Kaze to muffle her whimper.

When he smiled, sweet and small and harmless in illusion, even Kaze felt more than see Dao shrivel in fear.

"Remember," smile widening, the tall man began ushering Kaze out of the room with him. "Keeping this doll alive promise me money, your life gives me nothing. From now on, all of you worthless scums do your leisure in the red-light district. It's a short drive." A breathy chuckle blew past his lips. "Do consider this a warning."

Dao gulped, a droll behavior coming from a man of his bulky size. "Got it."

Satisfied, he left, pulling the girl without so much as a second glance to his subordinate. Well, the tall man didn't spare any, but Kaze was a different matter entirely.

She glared over her shoulder, the rage boiling in her gut still in unrest. Dao deserved the very worst in her eyes for multiple reasons, yet no matter how much violence her being craved for, it all fell short. Anticlimactic. Like hot oil cooling in the veins composing her heart.

No punishment could ever repay the pain he brought upon Hanabi. Upon her family.

After taking a few considerate steps away from Dao's quarters, the tall man dropped his grip on her arm, sidestepping around her to slink off to who knows where in his own business. There were no words uttered to her. There was no need. And for Kaze, that soothed her just fine.

She has nothing to say to him.

* * *

Beneath the weak beam of the light, Kaze carefully pushed herself to sit up on her bed, the thin blanket spilling down to her waist in her motion. Across her bed, unruly strands of orange were all she could see peaking from underneath the covers.

The twins were fast asleep.

Forcing her gaze up, Kaze watched as their door creaked open and the slouched form of Takumi came lumbering in; hair flat on his head, cheeks pale and limbs weak. The bruised rings beneath his eyes were more than palpable even beneath the weak sputter of their bulb.

He paused by the door. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Kaze shook her head, resisting the urge to tuck a strand behind her ear to hide the black bruise throbbing her jaw. Takumi doesn't need any more anguish tonight. "I was waiting for you."

There was a moment wherein he wavered by the door, fingers loose around the knob before he sighed, chest heaving with the weight unseen. Takumi pushed the door shut before he made his way to her bed and in return, Kaze shuffled to make room.

"You don't have to, you know." His words were frail, because even as he uttered his statement, Takumi didn't falter as he plopped himself beside Kaze, laying down on top of the quilt before reflexively putting his arm up for her to curl up by his side.

"I know," burying her face on his chest (half for his warmth and half to conceal her darkened jaw), Kaze frowned as she draped an arm over his middle. "But I want to wait."

Takumi tilted his head to look down at her, the shadows playing on his face worsening the rings beneath his eyes, the dark contrast only making the blue of his eyes appear metallic. A simple shade with no shine.

A dull color.

Sighing through his nose, Takumi tore his eyes off her to glance at his brothers.

"You know, I wish you don't understand this like them." A beat later, he added again, voice lower and lidded with heavy guilt. "I wish _I _don't too."

For a while, Kaze had no response. She understood where Takumi was coming from, and in truth, she wished for the same too. A guilty, selfish wish that just yearned for the hurt to stop—_needed_ it to stop, because it was drowning and consuming, and staying afloat was getting harder as the days continued.

Yet here they are.

"I think they do understand."

"What makes you think that?"

"Because they're trying hard." Kaze mumbled in thought, cheeks puffing as she recalled the two arriving back from a job.

In the last two months since Hanabi was gone, Zaro had some of his men train the twins, pushing past the limits of their quirk for a longer time limit. It was hell and aggravating for the two to trot down the basement with those brutes in tow to spend most of their day (unless they were called to join on a mission) confined down there. Kaze never knew how it goes. Once, Haru had passed out as soon as he fell on his bed and on another time, he half-carried an unconscious Kouyou back to their room, a thin stream of blood leaking from his nostrils that had set all of them panicking.

But they never complained. Never said a word nor fought back even once since Hanabi was plucked from their room to live somewhere else.

Then earlier, precisely around supper, Kaze walked back into their room, a hand cupping her jaw that showed another consequence for overcooking the food yet again. However, the second her eyes laid on Kouyou gingerly wiping blood off Haru's sheen jolted her out of her own pain and she moved before she even knew she was—knees sinking on the floor beside Kouyou to help.

She said no questions—no hows nor whys expressed. Kouyou had difficulty yanking his glare away from her jaw, but he said nothing too just as Haru ducked his head in an effort to ignore.

In that moment, Kaze tossed away the rage she had earlier this morning for Dao, forcing it deep inside of her where it will remain untouched and unnoticed.

They were trying hard, and she understood that.

"Why?" Takumi whispered, his voice soft as the night breeze, as if the very thought of disturbing the silence scared him.

"For you. For us." Kaze closed her eyes. "For Hanabi."

There was one thing that Kaze received from this torture, and that was the siblings. Each of them shed a little light in this dreary place, a happiness that gave them the strength to last for another day. With one missing, it was difficult to wade by the current, yet they managed. Kaze, Haru, and Kouyou urged to keep the load lighter for Takumi, because with Hanabi gone, the former took charge. An eleven-year-old boy acting grownup. Their safety was his priority.

But the problem was, Takumi was gone most of the time now.

"Nine months," raising a hand to run it down his face in exhaustion, Takumi bit on his tongue to fight back the surge of emotions. "How in the world can we survive without aneue in nine months. . ."

Nine months was indeed a long time. For them, it felt centuries until it ends. But it has been two months now. Two. . .

Just seven more.

"We can try."

* * *

"Doll."

Toes tittered by the edge of the stool, shoulders jumping at the sudden intrusion as the pan nearly toppled off the stove in her fright before she managed to right it on the last second.

She sighed. The food was saved.

Nose wrinkling in distaste, Kaze angled her head enough to see who had entered. And there, standing in his full height and sharp predator-like features was no other than her captor.

Her lips thinned. "Zaro."

The man let a tiny grin stretch his lips, steel blue eyes squinting in amusement as he made his way towards the long table, noisily yanking out a ratty chair before sitting himself down.

"Nasty tone for a kid. You need to learn how to respect your elders, doll."

"Never you." Was her quiet mumble, twisted by her tongue to say it beneath a whisper. She narrowed her eyes at the soppy yellow on the pan, jerkily scooping out the food before dumping it on a measly plate. With her patience being tested, Kaze stepped down from her stool to head towards the rice steamer. What little rice left there were cold and bitsy to bite, yet she felt no care at all as she scraped it all off with a paddle, adding it all on the plate with barely any considerations for appearance's sake.

"Eggs." She placed the plate before the brunette with a dignified thud. "Eat up." _'And __choke.'_

Arching a brow at her attitude, Zaro mindlessly reached for his pair of chopsticks already prepared on the table. "Again? You always make eggs."

"I don't burn them," Kaze stuck her nose in the air, jaw tight with the familiar hum of fury already heating her blood coupled with that telltale itch on her right cheek. Oddly enough, it was a thrilling sensation just as much as it was uncomfortable. Her bloated chest begged for release.

But this was Zaro—not moronic, primitive Dao. Zaro.

Openly admitting her fear would be the poorest decison, but Kaze could not deny that Zaro along with the tall man can effortlessly make her bones quiver.

"Hn." Poking at the eggs in mild disgust, Zaro said nothing more as he began to eat, methodically picking clumps after clumps of rice and eggs to stuff in his mouth, quietly chewing in his haste to swallow it all down.

Dropping her stare, Kaze raised a finger to scratch her cheek. Zaro never was one who is fond of continuing conversations, despite her rather smug impression of him in their first encounter. He deemed it unnecessary, and unnecessary meant a waste of time and energy to him. Purposeless. Which was why she turned away to make her exit, spending any more second here was unnecessary.

Zaro decided to surprise her then when he called.

"I almost forgot," he leaned back, fishing a hand in his back pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to her without looking. "Your sister sent you this."

Kaze gasped, snatching the paper out of his fingers to cradle it protectively to her chest. It was thin, slightly wrinkled; no doubt for being in Zaro's pocket for some time now. A minuscule coffee stain marked the upper corner, but even then, she already treasured the letter far more than any diamond.

However, before Kaze even unfolded it open, she paused. "She's not my sister."

The hand maneuvering his chopsticks stilled at her tone.

"I don't care," Zaro scoffed, finishing the last of his meal. "Just take it and go."

A wayward thought crossed her mind then, nagging to be satisfied like the darkest of curiosities. Kaze probably knew she'd regret asking this later, but she had no control when the words just dangled past her tongue.

"Why did you do it?"

Zaro halted before he even stood from his seat, slanting his gaze back towards her with a trace of annoyance.

She took that as a cue to continue. "You. . . You helped her. Why?"

Any other time, Kaze wouldn't have classified it as helping. She doesn't like being separated from Hanabi, and neither does Takumi, Haru and Kouyou. But five months ago, a fifteen-year-old was proven to be pregnant, and at sixteen, she will have a child. Zaro had uncharacteristically barged in their room in all of his sneering manner then, laying out the options Hanabi can make.

She can go away during the nine months, live with a distant relative of Zaro's who was uninvolved with his shenanigans. Then, once the fiasco is over, Hanabi can come back, but the kid will be dumped elsewhere.

The other option was simple.

They can just kill it.

Obviously, Hanabi had chosen the former. Kind, selfless Hanabi who would never dare to trade her soul for another, especially one growing inside of her. No matter the cause.

Kaze remembered joining the twins in holding back Takumi that faithful day, their own tears spilling uncontrollably whilst their eldest brother had lost his control. Takumi had been so willing to use his quirk on his sister then—so willing, just to keep her safe. But that was impossible.

Takumi could never use his quirk against his own blood. Or more specifically, he _can't. _

His limitation, a discovery he made a long time ago.

Still, it didn't stop Hanabi from giving her younger brother a look. One that shut him up and willed to compose his attitude.

Then before they knew it, Hanabi was gone.

Zaro had taken her. He had pulled the strings for her comfort. Then once a month, he alone would visit. Or at least he claims to, but the occasional letters Hanabi had sent through him was proof enough of his help. Kaze had never really taken the chance to think of his actions thoroughly, never truly bothered to seek for a reason beneath the actions. In her mind, he was still the same person.

The very one who calls Takumi and the twins to force them to do kidnappings.

The very one who brought her here with missing memories.

The very one who turned a cheek to Hanabi's situation.

The very one who followed the tall man's vision without fail.

No.

Kaze would never forgive him. But she wasn't opposed to digging for some answers. Anything. Though as to what she was looking for, she had no idea.

A shred of humanity? Unlikely.

"People here are unstable, doll. That includes me, you and those brats." Zaro eventually answered, narrowing his gaze into a glare before he finally pushed himself up. "Just keep that in mind and buzz off."

His words triggered the fresh anger within Kaze and it lurched—clawing out of her chest and zapping up to cloud her brain. Her cheek itched to no end, yet she blinked it all away.

So much for getting answers.

Kaze stormed out of the room.

* * *

_Everyone__,_

_I apologize for the short letter. __Zaro's__ in a hurry._ _How are you? I miss you all so much. It's lonely here without you all. Take care always, OK? Anyways, I'm bringing her back.  
__-Hanabi_

"Oi, Kaze? Hurry up! I'm not waiting for you."

Folding the letter back into fours, Kaze gingerly placed the paper back into the pocket of her baggy shorts, hefting up the empty rucksack over her shoulder before she hurried to match her pace with Haru's.

"S-Slow down a little!"

"This is slow! Just walk faster."

Sucking in her bottom lip to quell her exasperation, Kaze sniffed indignantly as she followed Haru in unsteady feet. It was difficult to walk in shoes, especially when this was the first she had ever worn some. Well, at least to her knowledge. Her toes felt restricted and the lack of feeling on the soles of her feet was somewhat alarming.

Needless to say, it was embarrassing, tripping over her own feet.

_'It doesn't matter,' _inwardly shrugging away her petty discomforts, Kaze bit on her lip, bunching her shoulders close to her chin when she got shoved by a passing stranger.

"Haru," she sighed. "Are we really going to do this?"

Her simple question caused the grey of his eyes to dim, shadowed by orange strands tangling past his eyebrows. Nonetheless, Haru simply pushed his feet to walk faster.

"Aneue said she's bringing the baby back," He squared his shoulders as proof to his iron determination. "We have to."

A breathless huff puffed past Kaze's lips, her brain struggling to keep up with the clumsy twists of her ankles and their rather dangerous conversation. "I don't understand why she has to. What are we going to do with it?"

"_'She'_, Kaze. The baby's a girl, not 'it'."

"Fine," frowning with a roll of her eyes, Kaze once again tried to match his pace when she fell back, teetering back on her heels when a group of men dressed in strange outfits—pressed and strait-laced with rectangular cases in hand—mercilessly barrelled through her and Haru, though the ginger was noticeably more adept in squeezing in between the mass of bodies.

The sight was strange to her eagerly feasting eyes, especially those tiny square gadgets in their hands. Phones, she recognized.

Kaze shook her head. Now was not the time to become distracted. "What are we going to do with her, then? The plan was to give her away, we can't raise a baby in. . . there."

There was never a word that Kaze could use to describe that dreaded place. It wasn't a house—no extravagant mansion nor compound. It was just a building. A strategically secluded building.

Not a home built for a baby.

Haru took hold of her arm to guide her down the sidewalk when Kaze nearly crashed into another stranger again. With nothing but a pointed look aimed at his companion, the ginger began leading the way, keeping his eyes down to avoid catching any passerby's attention. The area they were in was usually far from being crowded, but this was rush hour. Although realistically speaking, it was trickling into its end by now as the time creaked past nine in the morning.

Still, what few groups of people who crossed their paths barely gave two scrawny children a glance, preoccupied with the world inside the screens of their phones to notice their filthy state—arms too thin, shoulders too tense, and eyes too wide.

Not one glance.

Haru was used to going out like this, but he had to remind himself that this was Kaze's first time venturing the outside world. The harsh glare of the sun felt refreshing on his skin, welcomed after staying inside grey shadows for so long. Though he assumed Kaze felt the same, he frowned as he noticed how pasty her skin looked underneath the natural light. Ghostly white.

He frowned.

The day he saw her by the dumpster, her skin had a healthy peachy glow then, red dusting her cheeks even beneath all that grime. He knew he wasn't responsible for her condition, but Haru felt the stab of guilt straight to his chest all the same.

Today was supposed to be a wonderful day—to anybody else, at least. Bright sun, fair wind, vibrant skies. A perfect sight to feast on for someone who has been trapped inside for two years.

Yet he brought her out here for theft.

"I don't know. Aniki asked Zaro why aneue's bringing the baby back, and he said that the orphanage near to where aneue's staying isn't good." He eventually replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. Haru looked up to see the destination he was aiming for: the mall.

He pulled on Kaze's arm to urge her faster.

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe the old people in charge are mean?"

"Oh."

"I know," Haru hummed his agreement, a smile creeping on his frown when she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Her once cool patience had been quite thin as of late. "Aneue was going to try the orphanage across town, but boss doesn't want aneue too far."

They were almost to the mall when they stopped, the red light warning them to not cross. Haru knew that Kaze had her missing memories, but it was strange to digest that she was still aware of other things—like the red light warning for crossing. Her feet had automatically stopped before he could even get the chance to warn her. Around them, strangers hoarded the space, waiting to cross as they were. There was a kid their age to his right, a toy in his grasp and a lollipop in his mouth.

Haru tried to ignore the fact that the difference between the kid and them was plenty.

One being that the kid still holds his mother's hand.

"There's not a lot of good people in this world, isn't there."

Startled, Haru turned towards Kaze when she murmured her words. Low enough just for him to hear, yet her attention wasn't on him.

He watched her looked at the people around them, craning her neck left and right with eyes subconsciously pleading for someone to notice. Yet none could understand her silent cry for help.

Haru dropped his gaze, unable to stare any longer. He remembered doing the same thing a long time ago, the first time he and his twin were hauled to do crime. He was so helpless then; weak and hiding behind his brothers' backs. They couldn't say a word, because then Hanabi will get hurt. They couldn't escape, because Hanabi was still in the building. In addition, Zaro had a tight leash around Takumi's neck. They couldn't leave.

One just doesn't abandon their own family.

But seeing the proof that the world wouldn't even care to take a glance was another cruelty in itself.

"No, there aren't."

The red flashed green. Haru pulled on her arm again. "Come on. You know what to get, right?"

The list was with her, Kaze kept it in her pocket along with the letter Zaro had handed to her three days ago from Hanabi.

"Yeah." She nodded, forcefully extinguishing the emotions off her face as they effortlessly entered the mall.

Haru clenched his jaw, brows furrowing further as he got ready to use his quirk. He's been taught how to steal, how to be vigilant for a quirk that can unsew his, or see through his illusions. Without Kouyou, their limit was shorter, but they would do it still. They had no choice. No options. Nothing.

No one would accuse a child or two of stealing, but they have to be careful. Hide in plain sight, but always be smarter—wary. He has Kaze, and the girl knew what to do in case of emergencies. Both of them were drilled on what to do in case of emergencies.

They're not stupid.

They can do this.

And yet, the second both of them tugged on the clothes and pins a baby would need after an illusion was assured, neither of them could stop the guilt that forced a sting behind their eyes.

"I don't like this, Haru."

He yanked two packs of diapers from a shelf and stuffed it in the rucksack.

"Me too."

* * *

Nine months.

Nine months of longing.

Nine months of bandaging up the twins after an extended quirk training and waiting up for Takumi past midnight.

Nine months of taking up all the chores without Hanabi.

Nine months of receiving abuse for failures.

Then for the last four months, they were stealing.

Kaze would do just about anything to wipe away all that transpired then, but this? _This_ she can repeat over and over again. The bubbling joy was addictive, cleansing away all the sadness in one glorious wave. A firefly glow within the dark.

This emotion was beautiful.

Seeing Hanabi walk into their room behind Zaro made it hard to breathe. It was so surreal, as if the intended would never come, but it has and it's happening and she had no idea how to react.

Hanabi was here.

Here.

Kaze barely registered Zaro leaving without a word, blue eyes momentarily glancing down at the bundle in Hanabi's arms before he closed the door.

Maybe she should have paid attention. Or maybe not. Kaze didn't know.

Hanabi was back. That was all that matters.

Kouyou hauled himself up from his bed, grey eyes blown wide yet the unmistakable smile growing on his face gave hint that he was feeling the very same feeling; as if the sun had blessed their rainy days and chased the ghastly winter away.

Kaze wet her lips._ 'She__ really is __back.'_

"Aneue!"

That cry was what broke their trance, the shock shattering and limbs unfreezing. Then one by one, all of the boys scrambled up to their feet, tossing away flimsy blankets and sagging pillows in their excitement. All of their eyes were zeroed in on Hanabi and the beam she wore like an angel.

"You're here!" Kouyou threw his arms around his sister's waist, eyes closing as he reunited with the sweet warmth only his sister could ever provide. "You're really here! You're here!"

"Kouyou!" Even her voice sounded surreal to their ears, low yet gentle as she carefully crouched down to wrap her younger brother into a one-armed hug, mindful of the bundle in her other arm. "Oh my, how I've missed you!"

Haru joined his twin this time, teeth glinting with the wide grin he wore from ear to ear as he threw his arms around Hanabi's neck. "I missed you too, aneue!"

Hanabi chuckled at the impact, breathy and wobbly. She placed a hand on Haru's cheek when he pulled away, thumb fondly tracing the old nick on his eyebrow.

"Of course, Haru. I can never forget you," she paused, then mimicking the mischievous curl of her brother's lips, Hanabi twirled a finger around an orange lock. "But you haven't been fixing your hair while I was gone, I see."

The twins chuckled, stepping away as their sister stood back straight.

"He's just lazy." Kouyou piped, eyes refusing to look away.

"Shut up." Haru was the same even as he murmured, taking in this fragile moment of a reunion as a means to clutch the skirt to Hanabi's dress.

Takumi walked forward, the emotions flickering in his eyes too fast for any of them to distinguish. He was as stiff as a board when he approached, knees nearly giving and chin dipped, as if he very well expected this to be a dream and once the spell was broken, he'd wake up and face his nightmares once more.

It was a fear Hanabi cured when she erased the distance between her and Takumi, wasting not a second before she pulled the boy into a much-needed hug; a sob squished in her throat when her brother buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, equally desperate for contact.

It took a second for Takumi to respond with her arm around him. But when he did, he embraced his sister with all he got.

"You're okay," he squeezed, a breathless laugh falling from his lips when Hanabi kissed the side of his head in return. "You're really okay. . ."

"I'm fine."

'Okay' or 'fine' would be an understatement, because within that moment, in all of their eyes, Hanabi was _glowing_. Ethereal. The smile on her face mirrored their own in width and intensity, eyes deep as the ocean color with her golden hair seemingly kissed by the sun. Grime was gone from her skin, leaving nothing but a clear and healthy tan.

She was glowing, and they're glad_._

"I'm so happy to see you all again," raising one wobbly hand to the ginger's jaw, Hanabi's smile inched wider, eyes squinting as she fondly wiped her brother's cheek, lingering a little at the rings almost carved beneath Takumi's eyes.

Her smile slacked at the sight. "I'm _so_ sorry, Takumi."

"N-No!" Adamant, Takumi shook his head as he pulled away, sniffing discretely when he attempted to right his composure. "You don't need to apologize, aneue. It's fine. It's just. . . just. . ."

A soft coo interrupted their conversation; the noise softer than feather and lighter than the chime of a bell. It grabbed everyone's attention without fail, and when a tiny hand poked out of the white bundle, a collective gasp came from the brothers.

Tiny fingers curled, grasping nothing yet everything at the same time.

His words forgotten, Takumi looked up to his sister, a vulnerable feeling washing over him as he tentatively held out his arms, tense, but willing.

"May I?"

Hanabi held out the baby—her daughter—with an encouraging chuckle. "Of course."

He was clumsy, no doubt about that. A boy who had never cradled a baby in his life before, except—perhaps—when he was young and chubby, cuddling close to his little twin brothers when they were new to this world. Nevertheless, he can distinguish the emotions that coursed through his young heart then; the pride of being an older brother and the eagerness to play and teach.

But this sensation was different.

Takumi held the bundle close to his chest as Hanabi idly fixed his arms and grip. He obeyed without a word, yet if he were truly being honest, he had long since stopped paying attention the second the weight was passed to his arms; chest feeling too small for his lungs and hands a little too shaky. He didn't know when he had drifted off to his bed to sit, the baby still in his arms and taking his undivided attention. And he certainly didn't realize when the twins had joined him, kneeling on either side of him on his bed to peer closer.

He blinked. "I'm an uncle."

Grinning, Kouyou nudged Haru across from him. "_We're_ uncles now, Haru. Time for you to grow up."

Haru wrinkled his nose and swatted his twin. An action that earned a gurgled giggle from their tiny audience.

And just like that, they were smitten.

Hanabi chuckled behind her hand from her spot by the door, amused at the sight of her brothers becoming so easily enamored to a newborn child. Then again, she couldn't fault them for that. It had been difficult to accept the baby as hers during the nine long months of her pregnancy, especially when the trauma still had its tight grip into her mentality. Zaro's. . . cousin (or whatever relationship they had) had been kind enough to support her, albeit distant. But without her family, Hanabi recalled long nights of reliving the horror she had been forced into, her lips sewn shut to protect her brothers' innocence. Though with their involvement with the organization, it was a futile attempt in protection.

She had been so ready to give away her child, so overcome with the grief of her youth wasted and the disgust that pinched her skin for carrying the child of a criminal.

Hanabi thought she wouldn't make it. That she'd crack within the nine months.

But then she did manage. Nine months came, and then the second Hanabi held the pink baby in her arms, it was as if something clicked. A lock lodging onto its place or a puzzle piece shifted to fit.

This. . . tiny person couldn't possibly be a spawn of some unstable maniac. No. The baby was hers too.

Without meaning to, it was as if Hanabi found her salvation.

"Hey."

"What?"

". . . She kinda looks like mom."

"Oh yeah, she does!"

Hanabi grinned at the awed conversation. It was endearing to watch her brothers like this—struck by the natural curiosity of a child that they are, yet at the same time, she was grateful that they made no fuss. Her daughter has nowhere to go—no option that can ensure her survival. The orphanage in this part of town was a nightmare and Zaro's boss wouldn't allow her to venture any further to look for a potential home for her child. And Hanabi was certainly not about to go leaving a newborn baby on some random doorstep. She would never allow it.

Strangely enough, Zaro had discouraged her too.

So as much as Hanabi hoped for a better life for her baby, bringing her here was the only option that she could _live_.

Inwardly shaking her head to ward off such thoughts, Hanabi straightened herself. Now is not the time to ruin the mood with problems. Later, not now.

Besides, someone was missing this reunion.

Eyes drifting away from her brothers, Hanabi paused.

There, with her feet rooted a distance away from them, was Kaze.

She was looking at the baby.

"Kaze-chan?"

Said girl flinched, shrinking into herself when caught staring, then lowered her head. Her uncertainty was clear to all of them; insecure and unsure, unable to bring herself in. They were family.

She's not.

"Sorry," Kaze mumbled.

That was when the guilt that swallowed Hanabi went berserk.

Determined—inflamed by the voice in her head that mocked her discarded responsibility as a sister—Hanabi crossed the room in record time, each step leading her to see the damage her absence had done to the poor girl, and it was so startling and harrowing to witness it all that it jabbed a knife straight through Hanabi's chest. An ache too vast.

Hanabi thought that feeling Kouyou and Haru's bones through her embrace more prominently than before—the added scars she could see speaking depressing stories—was _heartbreaking_, but it was more than that. She thought that seeing the fear and trauma in Takumi's eyes—so dim compared to his passionate self—gave her a _meltdown_ all in itself, but it was more than that.

She thought that seeing Kaze hold herself so small, an unnatural edge in the way she held herself in—distrustful, wary and exhausted—was _wrenching_, but it was more than that.

Hanabi left broken. But she never thought that when she returns, _they _were broken.

"Kaze-chan," knees sinking onto the floor, Hanabi clutched the girl's shoulders, gaze raking at the latter's physical changes. Paler, thinner, and tar-black tresses longer. "Oh, Kaze-chan. . ."

Thin fingers reached up to gently pry off the hands on her shoulders, silent as the constant breeze.

Finally, a smile bloomed on Kaze's face. "Welcome back."

For what it was worth, Hanabi knew she should broach on sensitive subjects. She wanted to poke on the reason behind the sudden calloused composure underlying the twins' upbeat energy. She wanted to see how Takumi abruptly aged with a seemingly fixed glint in his eyes.

Hanabi needed to know what happened to her family so she can fix it. And that included Kaze.

But again, now was not the time. Hanabi would not spoil this moment and she would dare not shatter the joyful atmosphere around them. That in itself was rare and she would like to savor it.

So it was with difficulty that Hanabi pinned on a smile. Somber with delicate thoughts, but genuine all the same. She pulled Kaze into a hug, chuckling when air whisked out of the latter's lungs.

She would fix this.

"Thank you," Hanabi meant it in more than one way, and when she ended the embrace to stand back up—grinning at the dumbfounded tilt of Kaze's head—she offered her hand. "Come on."

Confused, Kaze eyed the hand by her nose, brows knitting before she made her question known with an arch of a brow. Hanabi gestured towards the baby.

"You're part of this family for a long time now," she smiled. "So, why don't you join us to welcome a new member."

Family.

Kaze had always envisioned her own to be the traditional, typical family. A father, a mother—doting grandparents and a sibling or two.

But this. . .

This was better.

_'A family,'_ Kaze stared into Hanabi's eyes, transfixed, then glanced over the blonde's shoulder, breath hitching when three pairs of eyes knowingly watched her. _'My family.'_

Kaze grasped Hanabi's hand and let the older girl pull her towards her—_their_ brothers. The smile grew on her face with each pump of her heart, euphoria taking hold and banishing all her initial shock and uncertainties away. By the time they reached Takumi, she had on a full-grown grin.

Kouyou shifted to give Kaze a space to sit. "Go on and look at your niece, _aunty_."

Eager and anxious, Kaze met each of their stares. Looking for what, she didn't know.

She was part of their family.

"Go on, Kaze."

Kaze nodded.

Then she looked down.

It all happened in a second. An emotion too quick to grasp, but she felt it. It was undeniable.

She was struck by utter adoration the second she looked; rendered weak by that gummy smile and round, dimpled cheeks; beaming at the soft fuzz of peach-colored hair resting flat on the baby's crown and complimenting large periwinkle eyes staring back into her cherry ones—a shade lighter than Hanabi and Takumi's. Those eyes looked at her full of innocence and life.

And in return, Kaze stared back with hope.

The baby sneezed.

"She's beautiful." Kaze chuckled, reaching out to grasp the baby's outstretched hand.

With another coo, the baby wrapped her incredibly short fingers around Kaze's index.

She glowed. "What's her name?"

Hanabi smiled, carefully taking back her daughter from Takumi.

"Her name is Hisae. Our little Hisae."

* * *

**Part 2 (next chapter) will be the last of Kaze's introduction arc (of sorts)**


	4. Origin (Part 2)

_warnings: _**_teenage pregnancy; early motherhood; mentions, implications & mild descriptions of child abuse; implied human & child trafficking; implied torture (if you squint); death; overall dark themes._**

**Please heed the warnings. This chapter will be the last concerning of Kaze's origin. Starting next chapter, she will be properly introduced with our beloved characters and things will proceed lighter compared to the first four chapters of this fic. However, please expect that origins such as Kaze's and the siblings leave life-long effects. As such, expect douses of _Post-Traumatic__ Stress Disorders._**

**A certain hero of ours appears at the end of this chapter :)**

* * *

**"Keep that smile, kid."**

* * *

_Shibata Riku gingerly pushed the door shut with the pads of his fingers, a slight tremor rolling down the length of his arms as a lick of a wind teased around his ankle; faint and fleeting, but for someone who was well aware of what that wind can do_—_has seen what that wind can do that defies possibilities_—_he was wary in his approach. A feeling he was ashamed to harbor._

_However, that didn't stop the churn of worry as he watched his only daughter sit in the middle of her bed, spine bowed and head lowered, yet even behind the thick curtain of her endless black tresses (a trait she had gotten from her mother), Riku can see the twist of defiance in her scowl. Dashed by guilt, maybe, but she knew what was going to happen. Why he was here and why he was careful._

_It was best to get this over with._

_"Sweetheart," he started, a sigh stuck in his throat as he shuffled closer towards the edge of her bed. "What happened today?"_

_She huffed, tongue in her cheek. __"Mama told you already." _

_Riku was stunned, candy red eyes wide with surprise at the snark in his daughter's tone. He didn't approve of it, and while his wife did lay out the story of this afternoon's happenings, he at least wanted to know from his daughter's perspective. _

_"Fix that tone, young lady." Riku narrowed his eyes, chest straining against his blue dress shirt. "I want to know why your mother is severely disappointed in you today and why our next-door neighbor's been complaining about their children being hurt."_

_That last word must have triggered, because no sooner did it fell from his lips, his daughter snapped her gaze up at him, face flushed and brows knitting deeper, but it was the clear betrayal in her eyes that Riku found himself inwardly shrinking back in shame. _

_What was he even doing?_

_"You believe them, papa? Why? I didn't hurt them!" She wrinkled her nose, stubborn to keep the tears at bay. "I was being really, really careful! I moved out of the way, I promise! I would never hurt them."_

_The child clawed at the sheets of her bed, desperate. Riku could see that_—_see the truth in her gaze and hear it dripping from her tone, but he could feel the wind ruffle his hair and he noticed then that her window was open. _

_He withered._

_Shibata Riku was no fool. His daughter was powerful. A prodigy who could wield her quirk to a feat unlike anything nor anyone he has ever seen before, especially at her age. Though admittedly, he was embarrassed to admit that he_—_along with his wife_—_had mistaken his daughter's wind-wielding quirk to just mere flying before. If it weren't for those agents from the Quirk Development Department, he would have been none the wiser. But now he was and the signs had never been more obvious to him. The danger seemed far greater now, imminent as his daughter grew stronger each day. _

_He knew his daughter wanted contact, eager to meet a kid of her age to play and mingle with as would most children yearn for. But he also knew that her quirk made her adrenaline hungry, addicted to move in the speed of the wind itself and bring herself to heights most people would faint at. _

_Riku never knew that wind could be dangerous before. But now he does._

_His daughter's control of the wind was so powerful that, despite her expert hold onto it already, her emotions often tug onto them wildly. Kuronoe from that Quirk Development Department had said that she needed to grasp the fact that her emotions play a great part in controlling her quirk (as most people do), thus needs to be emotionally tested. There were a lot more technical terms that Riku was lost to, but he was beginning to doubt. His daughter's control almost felt like it was slipping, and the accidents were nonexistent before_, _but __now? It was like every day he got back from work his wife has something to rant to him about. There was always _something _that broke in the house, or when his daughter ventures outside, there would be _someone _who's shaken with trauma._

_It was a dishonorable and shameful feeling, but Shibata Riku fears his own daughter as well. Most especially when he had to talk to her like this. It was as if the indiscernible element had a mind of its own, chilling his joints or heating the back of his neck. A monster breathing down on him. He loathed the terror every time it clutched his heart and begged his legs to walk away from his own child, but it was inevitable._

_And right now, she saw the very same terror clear in his eyes as the breeze pulled on his tie when it slithered in through her window._

_Her face fell. "You're scared too."_

_Guilty but adamant, Riku raised his chin with a stern look. "Sweetheart, I know that you don't mean anything, but you're putting others in danger whether you're aware of it or not."_

_"I'm not!"_

_"Yes, you are!" Riku paused, closing his eyes to calm himself after his outburst. He didn't want to have to scold his daughter. She was just a child. _

_A child with a simple yet unfortunate quirk._

_"Shou-kun doesn't think it's dangerous, he thinks it's fun." _

_Confused, Riku peeled his eyes open. He stared as his daughter dropped her gaze from him, lips thinned as cherry red eyes dimmed in melancholy. Her eyes have always been darker than his._

_"Who?"_

_"Shou-kun, he's my friend. He's going to have his own quirk soon."_

_Frowning, Riku concluded this 'Shou-kun' must be a child living nearby. Though he had never heard of someone who has a son named Shou, and Riku was friendly and familiar to everyone in his neighborhood (especially when he has a reckless daughter to apologize for). Then again, his daughter also talks to someone named King too._

_Maybe this Shou is another one of her imaginary friends then?_

_Sighing, Riku opened his mouth to say something, but found himself at a loss._

_Defeated at the look in his eyes, the girl turned her cheek. _

_She was never going to convince them. _

_"I'm sorry." Her apology was rehearsed, redundant after time and time again that its meaning fell flat to her._

_Riku blinked, then sagged in relief. He can leave now._

_"That's what I want to hear."_

_"I know."_

•

•

**DECEMBER**

•

•

**THE** door groaned shut, echoed by a heavy creak before the rings of bolts and locks ensured their security. To finish, a small click of a deadbolt ended all of the intricate locks in place, a final yet unnecessary piece with all of the thick bolts in place.

Not that she cared either way. The alarms were there for a reason.

Satisfied, Kaze turned on her foot, facing the darkened hall with shadows clinging onto every niche. The walk through was short as the floor eventually spread into the main lobby, dim light glowing past the darkness that gave the setting a greenish tinge. She paid no heed towards the few men who lingered around the area—dawdling by the pool table and ruining themselves by the bar. She kept gaze forward as was customary and headed straight for the stairs, gripping the strap of her backpack slung over one shoulder.

In doing so, Kaze walked by the metal door that led down to the basement—barred by the same complex patterns of heavy deadbolts and cylinders.

A muffled scream could be heard as she passed by, prompting her feet to stall for a second.

_'Again.' _Lips thinned, Kaze slid her stare towards the imposing door, the beginning of a scowl falling on her stony facade.

"Hey, doll."

Eyes flicking up at the call, Kaze remained still, reaching up one finger to scratch her right cheek at the sight of Dao sneering at her from the couch, dark hair spiked and greasy as it always appeared to be.

Dao eyed the bag peaking over her shoulder with a sneer. "You're late."

"I needed vitamins." The nearby pharmacy she and the twins always frequented closed early today, thus she had to look somewhere farther.

Not that he needed to know that.

Sneer distorting into an ugly, demeaning smile, Dao let out a snort. "Whatever. Just get your ass back in your room," another scream—louder—came from the door. His smile grew. "Pardon our guests. We're preparing them for a trip overseas, ya know?"

Kaze gripped the banister to the stairs with a loud smack. _'Don't,' _she chastised herself.

She hated facing Dao—hated seeing the face of the brute whose presence, until to this day, continued to unnerve Hanabi. She hated that he relished in the power of giving fear, and she hated how much he taunts her—willing her to break and charge at him just like she did when she was younger. And stupid.

But not now. Kaze knew her place, even though she hated the fact that he still lives.

Ignoring the mocking laughter from the man, Kaze trekked up the stairs, taking two at a time just to escape the tortured noises from behind the basement door.

She never did like seeing—nor hearing—another batch of people whisked out of their homes to be introduced to a life of slavery.

"I'm back." Releasing a sigh, Kaze let her shoulders slump forward as she got into their room, the tension easing out of her bones as she took off her backpack.

The bed squeaked. "Kaze-nee!"

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Kaze crouched down with an easy grin, spreading her arms wide just as the pitter-patter of small, clumsy feet ran towards her.

"Hello to you too, bug."

Giggling, three-year-old Hisae squeezed her short arms around Kaze's neck, a squeal interrupting her giggle when the older girl stood back up with the toddler in her arms.

Kaze grinned. "You're getting heavier, Hisae."

"Am not!"

"You are."

Kaze looked up, lips twisting into a smirk when she saw it was merely Kouyou who had interrupted; the latter coming out of the bathroom with a hand inertly rubbing his nape. His words were dropped in a form of casual humor, one that Kaze had a ready retort for, yet the second she took note of his ashen parlor—cheeks sallow and lips chapped—drained her amusement into concern.

She set Hisae down. "Still not feeling fine?"

"A little better, I guess." Shrugging, Kouyou scuffled back to his shared bed with Haru and—as for the past three years—Kaze as well. Though Hanabi had banned the two from sleeping there since last night when Kouyou's fever started.

Watching as Kouyou plopped back down on the sheets, lethargic and eyes lidded, a clear validation that his words were a lie at best, Kaze went back to her backpack. She quickly dug out all the stolen products haphazardly stored inside—clothes, toys, a can of powdered milk, diapers and vitamins for Hisae, then the medicines Hanabi had instructed to get for Kouyou.

"Where's everyone else?" Kaze glanced back at the older twin, carefully separating the toys from the rest when Hisae had huddled close in curiosity, eyes magnified when she grasped the red stuffed elephant from the pile.

"Ewephant!"

Concern aside, Kaze cracked a grin in amusement. "It's 'e-_le_-phant', Hisae."

"Aneue is cooking some soup, should be done at any moment." Kouyou leaned back on the headboard, attempting a smirk when Hisae ignored Kaze's correction and instead began having a gibberish yet animated conversation with her new toy. "Haru and aniki aren't back yet, though."

"Not yet? It's getting kinda late."

"Our job usually finishes around midnight."

"I know, but I thought this was supposed to be just some transportation? Nothing too problematic."

Kouyou could only shrug again. "Maybe they went farther than we think."

Standing up from the floor, Kaze stowed away the backpack for later use. She watched from the corner of her eyes as Hisae bounced her way back to her uncle, careful to keep her distance after her mother's warning. Her uncle was sick, and for some reason, the toddler considers it to be enough justification to always talk to him. Not that Kouyou minded, but Hisae had a habit of talking his ears off even when he's on the verge of falling asleep.

"Uncle Kou," lips stretching into a wide beam, the gap between her two front teeth proudly showing, Hisae held up the stuffed elephant. "Give name."

Kouyou merely arched a brow. "But you're better at giving names than me."

The toddler gave a pout.

"Just do it," Kaze sighed, striding towards the dresser next to Kouyou's bed. "Or else she'll tell Takumi about you making her cry again."

He scoffed. "Or worse—she'll tell Haru."

"Or worse—her mother."

The two shared a chortled laugh then, stifled behind their teeth with Kouyou weakly holding up a fist. Kaze didn't hesitate to bump it with her own, a wry smile on her lips whilst she kept her other hand busy on preparing the ginger's medicine and water. There was a tiny pinch just beneath her right eye again, painless but irritable and refusing to fade. She scratched the offended cheek with a finger once more.

Kouyou frowned when he noticed the movement. "Again?"

Hisae looked up, acutely—oddly enough—aware of the subject even in her age of short attention span. "Is Kaze-nee angry?"

Kaze neglected her task for a moment, equally surprised yet _un_surprised to see that Hisae had effortlessly connected the dots behind the itching of her marked cheek. Though the deeper reason behind such cause remained unknown to them.

Sighing at the naked worry knitting the toddler's brows—round, periwinkle eyes crystal in the emotion—Kaze handed Kouyou his water and medicine with one hand, ruffling Hisae's peach curls with the other as a form of reassurance.

"I'm not, don't worry."

Convincing Hisae that she was fine in all sense of the word has always been difficult, especially when the toddler had gotten a sniff that you are far from feeling 'fine'. The child was incredibly gifted in empathy, just like her mother, as well as being incredibly perceptive, like Kouyou. And it showed even at such a young age.

Thankfully, Hisae's attention was thankfully averted when Hanabi strode in the room carrying a tray topped with three, steaming bowls of soup; the enticing aroma of chicken making both Kouyou and Kaze aware of their stomach's complaints.

"Mama!" Hisae grinned, wide and excited as she held up her red elephant. "Look, Kaze-nee got me ewephant!"

"It's 'e_le_phant'."

Hanabi set the tray by the other dresser, the one next to her own bed, seeing as the previous one was occupied with medicines, baby bottles and a new can of powdered milk.

Returning her daughter's smile, Hanabi looked down at the stuffed elephant. It was of average size, about half of her forearm in length with trimmed, fuzzy red fur and black buttons for eyes along with a purple peaked hat perched atop its head. Cute and simple.

Amused at her daughter's rosy cheeks and vibrating joy over the stuffed animal, Hanabi grinned wide and tender. "That's cute, dear. What are you going to call him?"

"Can I use grampa's name?"

Hisae's innocent request was just that—innocent, yet not even a deaf person could deny the hint of longing evident in her face. A big question mark hung over her head that she was not afraid to address.

Kaze froze, now sitting by the ginger's feet as she chose to remain silent. Her gaze settled on the taut expression of Hanabi and Kouyou's, each pursing their lips in an effort to bite the sorrow.

After all, the subject of their murdered parents has always been a sore subject.

Months ago, Hisae had begun showing signs of avid curiosity as a child her age would have (asking to know what's outside and eager for stories). Unable to deny that to her daughter, Hanabi had budged and started telling her daughter stories about all that she can remember of their parents, and as predicted, Hisae had been so full of awe—eyes a kaleidoscope of excitement and jaw agape at the thought of her grandparents being cool and fighting crime. Takumi had helped too, and before they knew it, the two eldest had dwelled past their parents and onto their other relatives: their lone aunt who lived overseas in the west and their grandparents (or rather, Hisae's great-grandparents) who lived in another prefecture. Kaze had listened along with Hisae, and the twins had been hooked to—relying on Hanabi and Takumi's memories since they could hardly recall.

However, what Hisae doesn't know was that none of her other family relatives were alive now. Hanabi and Takumi had opted to emit that information, still shackled with grief in knowing that their parents were murdered during an ugly battle. Their aunt was a victim of a car accident, just months before the death of their parents. Their grandmother had long since passed before Kouyou and Haru was even in this world.

For all they knew, their grandfather was their only relative left. But it has been _years._

None of them dared to hope.

Besides, it was difficult enough to digest when Hisae had the eyes and delicate features of her grandmother. Or at least, that was what Kaze heard from Haru.

"Sure, Hisae." Masking her discomfort for her own daughter, Hanabi fondly tipped the toddler's chin. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Yay!" Throwing her arms up with her cheer, Hisae bounded off Kouyou's bed and climbed up on her own, bouncing merrily on the mattress as she held up the red elephant high. "Meet Akio! Hero name: Il—uhm, i-lu-nist. . .?"

"It's 'Illusionist', dear."

"Illusonee!"

Kaze chuckled, shaking her head as she shared a look with the two.

"Come on and eat your dinner first before you play with your toy."

"Akio, mama."

"Right."

* * *

Later into the evening, with the hand of the clock teasing towards midnight, Kaze found herself standing by the sink of the second floor's kitchen, hands sunk deep into suds and soapy water to scrub away all the grease on dishware; a methodical, sloshing slap occurring with each rub. It was quiet tonight, nothing but the ticking of the clock and the echoes of her labor to accompany her musing thoughts, rampant and heated by the anxious distress brewing in the pit of her stomach.

As it was, the lull of the task simply gave purpose to her restless hands, because as long as Takumi and Haru weren't back yet, Kaze would worry through the night.

Five kitchens in five floors were all cleaned and mopped—the dishes washed, dried, and back in their respective cupboards, yet there's still no sign of them returning. No rapid steps nor hollers coming from downstairs. No Haru dragging his feet inside their room whilst struggling to keep his eyes open and no Takumi wordlessly following his younger brother.

Kaze tried battling her fret with Kouyou's words, because it wasn't a lie that their job often rolls past the strike of twelve; dwelling until the early hours of dawn at the latest now that they're older. It was normal. No hitch to be distressed about, but it was an old routine of hers to wait when they were younger, then as the years passed, her routine became an age-old instinct. The need to reassure herself, perhaps. So she would wait.

But, foolishly enough, Kaze had assumed the wait tonight wouldn't trickle long as it typically would.

Another sloshing slap of the water and Kaze heaved a sigh, stealing a quick look at the round clock hanging on the wall over a cabinet.

**12 : 16**

Kaze frowned to herself, releasing a silent huff that spoke her confusion. It was supposed to be an easy mission, they said. Deliver and take the money was all for today. No more, no less. The earlier they finish the job, the better. It was what Zaro had repeatedly stressed this morning.

Why the emphasis behind the word 'haste' was lost to Kaze, and frankly, she cared none for it.

What she does care for was that, if the mission was supposedly easy, then how come not even one of them has returned yet? They usually parted into groups and come back at different times to remain discrete.

But they're not back yet.

The neighborhood was dead asleep and the night has gotten darker with none of the moon's light to spare. An evening dedicated to clasp the ugly happenings in hushed secrets such as their forbidden activities. Two or three groups should be arriving by now, with Takumi and Haru following minutes later in a group of their own, usually the largest. Then Zaro would come in last, as always.

But they're _still_ not back yet.

Kaze finished the last of the utensils when she paused, gnawing on her bottom lip and gripping the counter with soaked fingers; weak against the erratic drumming in her chest.

Her cheek itched again.

"Kaze-nee?"

Shoulders hunching in shock, Kaze carefully lifted her head from its bowed position and turned to see Hisae standing by the archway, the red elephant secured in the toddler's clutch.

She almost popped a vein in her panic. "What are you doing awake, Hisae? You're supposed to be sleeping!"

"I was shurtsy." Hisae lowered her gaze in shame, lashes fanning against her round cheeks.

"Thirsty?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell your mama then?"

"Mama sleeping. Tired."

Withholding a sigh, Kaze rolled back her shoulders, tongue pushing against her clenched teeth in an urge to release some scolding for the toddler. Hisae was not allowed outside the room for a reason, and that was because Zaro had only assured that the 'tiny brat' would not be touched nor harmed if she remains there. But if she comes out, then there were no guarantees.

But of course, Hisae just had to walk in the dim hall by herself after being deliberately taught to never be alone.

Kaze didn't want to humor on a 'what-if-she-wasn't-cleaning-in-their-floor' scenario.

"All right," _'Hanabi's__ going to kill __me.'_"I'll get you a glass." Running a tired hand down her face, Kaze moved to drape the dishtowel hanging over her shoulder onto the bars of a chair, easily picking a newly washed glass atop a plate. Once she had the mouth of the glass below the faucet, Kaze was aware of the frown on her face tugging deeper as she twisted the tap on, the hiss of the water summarizing her paltry frustration.

Hisae was a toddler, and as a toddler, she has her own rambunctious characteristics. Her tendencies to disregard her mother's orders in favor of indulging her guileless curiosities were just one of the few that were making Hanabi scratch her head. Though that is not to say that Kaze was unfamiliar when it comes to handling the blonde's daughter.

She just found it onerous to fault Hisae for it.

Kaze knew what it felt like—the need to know. And she knew what it felt like to be denied, how sour and shriveled her soul seemed to be when all she's known from the beginning of her life was. . . this.

No, Kaze could never fault Hisae for wanting to know more outside their four walls. But she would not tolerate the chance of the child getting hurt.

"Here."

Shuffling in on unsure feet, Hisae went to take the glass in Kaze's grasp, tucking Akio in the hollow beneath her arm to hold the glass with both of her hands. She drank it slow and deliberate, then handed the glass for another.

Kaze filled it up and gave it back, a ghost of a smile melting her irksome when Hisae finished it all in a few swigs, heaving a dramatic sigh and a grin. She got that from Haru, his huffy theatrics.

"Good?"

"Yep!" Hisae dutifully stood on the tips of her toes and set the glass back in the sink with a firm nod. "Walk me back?"

Smirking, Kaze reached out to ruffle the short fluff of peach hair. "Of course, bug. You know that you're never supposed to be alone."

A tint of pink flushed across Hisae's nose at the gentle jibe. Sheepish, she held out one hand towards Kaze, keeping her toy snug to her chest with the other. She was attached already, it seems. It made Kaze proud to see Hisae treasure her gift. Maybe she could get her a book next time?

"Let's go."

"Okay."

Kaze barely took Hisae's hand in her own when it happened.

The quake.

There was no warning—no sign to prepare themselves for it. Kaze only knew that she was engulfing Hisae's small hand into her own when the floor beneath them suddenly lurched high, throwing them off their balance in one delirious tremor. They screamed at the shock—horrid fear freezing the blood in their veins when the shaking decided to continue, convulsing in wrathful quivers that the floor splintered and the walls fractured; the washed dishes by the sink toppling down to the ground to shatter into a million, jagged pieces.

"WHA—!" Fruitlessly, Kaze willed her knees to hold, her life flashing before her eyes yet she refused to release her grip on Hisae. _'What's going on?!'_

"K-KAZE-NEE!"

The sound of the fridge groaning as it fell sideward reached their ears and Kaze yelped, pulling Hisae close to her chest when items hidden inside the cupboards rained down, the clangs of wooden and metal utensils joining the furious cries of concrete shifting. The cabinets soon followed after the fridge, tittering uncontrollably before they all tipped over in deafening bangs.

It was chaos.

"D-Don't let go, Hisae!"

Everything was breaking around them. Fissures formed. Tiles cracked. Food and ingredients wasted as they meshed together in one big mess.

The earth beneath them was moving and now the room was caving in.

Kaze scampered away on unsteady feet, heart in her throat as she dragged Hisae with her. A knife almost sliced her toe when the floor beneath her split, pushing the counter that held the container of knives and jerking it to fall. Thankfully, her reflex was fortunately faster. But that was as far as their luck would take them, because in the next second, the air went cloudy when a bag of flour popped somewhere, obscuring their vision in powdered grey.

_"_AH!" That split second of helpless sight was enough for Kaze to lose her footing, and when the ground gave a particularly harsh flinch, her sweaty hand lost its hold onto Hisae.

"HISAE!"

Kaze hit her head when she fell.

As quickly as the quake came through, the convulsion suddenly settled into a stop. An eery halt that gave way to an ominous silence.

A chip from the fractured counter fell.

Kaze felt her breathing fell short, a painful twinge gripping the base of her spine in earnest even as she laid still; moaning and gritting at the fresh throbbing.

She groaned. _'H-Hi. . .__sae__. . .'_

Peppers of flaky rocks from the ceiling above snowed down onto her spread-eagled form, clinging onto her hair and crusting her skin gray. Kaze willed herself to roll over, but her blurry vision was a hindrance and the hammering at the back of her head made her want to curl up into a ball.

It hurts. Her limbs hurt. Her back hurts. Her head hurts.

She wondered where Hisae was.

"There's two brats missing in the room!"

"Then_ find_ them, moron! Boss said to kill them all. They're all a fucking witness to our cause, dammit!"

"Fucking Zaro! It's his damn fault for letting those kids steal outside. Now, look! A FUCKING HERO TRACES THEM BACK HERE TO OUR BASE!"

Peeling her eyes open—when had she closed them?—Kaze stretched her hearing to listen at the commotion outside. The effort was strenuous, but the question to Hisae's safety urged strength into her jelly muscles, and she fed on her resolve. Something was happening. Good god, _something _was happening and she needs to know. If not for her, then for Hisae and everyone.

Everyone. . .

A voice mentioned something about killing them all.

Kaze pushed herself to sit, crying out from the pain and the rush it gave to her swirling head, but that was all insignificant compared to the stone of dread weighing her down. A man said something about killing them because they were a witness to their cause.

Against the agony pounding her brain into a pulp, Kaze felt the rooted rage in the pit of her stomach bloat. A fire consuming her heart at the mere thought of Hanabi and the others hurt. Takumi and the twins had their whole perspective twisted, their morals tested at the job they were forced into; bruises coat their skin and scars became their friend in every danger they faced. Hanabi became a mother because of the abuse, and she worked day and night catering to these beasts' every whim whilst keeping her family together. They've done so much—_too__ much _just to fight for a thread of happiness; a strength to survive this life.

Only to accomplish death? By murder?

Kaze would not allow it.

"Zaro was followed too. We're cornered!"

"_SHIT!_"

"What about the other one? The one with the marked cheek. Boss said a man owes him money for keeping her alive."

"_Zaro _is in charge of that little shit, right?! I don't give a flying fuck about that brat and if she's dead, then Zaro's responsible."

Within that instant, Kaze recognized the voice with a start. The very same gritty voice belonging to the monster who would rather spat his words out than speaking coherently. He was conversing with two others, both unidentifiable to her ears, but his voice—deep and vibrating from the pit of his gut—would forever be imprinted in her head.

_'Dao.'_

"Fuck Boss! He's done for," Dao's voice continued, a low growl curling at the end of his words. "We won't be working for him anymore after this, so we have to kill them ourselves then escape. Got it?!"

She gasped.

There was no response after that aggressive reasoning. No disagreement against murdering a bunch of kids.

Nothing at all.

The crack of a ceiling tugged on Kaze's focus. It was silent now. The quake was over and Dao and the others were gone, hurried steps fading away in their rush.

_'We need to __leave_._'_

"H-Hisae?" Coughing up the dust that plagued her nose, Kaze pushed herself onto her hands and knees, elbows trembling at the weight of her own. Dark spots dotted her vision just as her sense of balance became nonexistent. Her head was screaming, a shiver in her spine and she fought to smother down the whimper that tickled her throat.

Everything _hurts._

"Hisae!" Kaze clawed a hand on the floor, inching herself forward as she lowered her tone in case Dao was still nearby. She wasn't familiar with their quirks—nor anyone else's really, not even Zaro's, and she cursed to herself for being careless.

She should have known.

_'I need to go,' _Kaze blinked once, twice, and one more—a continuous flutter of her lashes in an attempt to steady her vision. _'I need to move. __Now.'_

Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, Kaze pushed from the palms of her hands, biting her tongue to ignite a pain to concentrate on rather than the distractive beating at the back of her head. But behind all the aches in her protesting muscles, there was a prickle in her blood—foreign and overwhelming, a feeling that she had never felt before.

And yet, it was familiar, akin to the comfort of a baby's first blanket.

Her cheek itched. More than it ever had before.

". . . Kaze-nee?"

"Hisae!" Kaze gasped, relieved to hear the soft pitch of the toddler. It was small, muffled by a little distance away from her, but she couldn't recognize any tremor of pain in Hisae's tone. "Hisae, where are you?"

Giving another shake of her head, Kaze bit down harder on her tongue, wincing when a metallic tang bloomed at the injury. However, she ignored the taste when her vision began to clear, the fog fading until she can make out clumps of distorted shapes and greyed colors.

With one last blink, Kaze finally made out the scene. Her jaw dropped.

The kitchen was a _mess. _Broken pieces were scattered all over the shattered tiles, their bent forms far too unrecognizable for Kaze to distinguish what they once were. Shards were littered everywhere—a minuscule gleam in the shadows as the only warning to be avoided. Rice grains could be seen too, mixing with the cracked eggs, flattened meat and cans whilst the spill of beer blended with other liquid. It was putrid, and when Kaze shifted a little, her toe slipped on a trail of oil.

Everything was just a spiderweb of fractured objects doused in monochrome shadows.

Raising her head, Kaze saw the fridge blocking the only entrance and exit, probably the reason why Dao and whoever the two he was with had ignored the space. Idiotic on their part, but fortunate for her.

Clutching onto the newly found strength and the rush in her veins, Kaze used it to push herself to a stand, mindful of the upturned cabinets and chairs as her eyes sought for Hisae.

She found the child crouched beneath the table, one of its leg crooked as a portion of it was torn.

"There you are!" Relieved, Kaze rushed towards the child, scooping up the latter in her arms regardless of the strain of her muscles. Using her thumb, she wiped away a layer of dust on Hisae's cheek, frowning when the flakes clung onto her peach-colored locks too.

Then again, she imagined that she must have looked worse.

"Come on," Kaze wrapped her arms tighter around the toddler. "We have to find your mom and your uncles."

Sniffing, Hisae shakily bobbed her head in a nod, snaking her own quivery arms around Kaze's neck. "W-Who those men, Kaze-nee?"

Kaze turned her head to look right into Hisae's eyes, and she faltered at the fear she saw in them.

She never wanted to see that look in Hisae's eyes ever again.

"They're bad men, Hisae." Placing a hand on the back of Hisae's head, Kaze gently guided the former to bury her face in the space between her neck and shoulder. She felt Hisae's arm tightened around her neck and she let her, hoisting the child higher before she carefully meandered around the area.

"Now, there's a vent here somewhere," Kaze lifted her foot higher to avoid a fallen box on the floor. "We can crawl in there and go to our room, but when we get there, you have to follow me, okay? Do what I say, no questions asked, do you understand?"

Hisae gave an affirmative grunt.

"Good." Deeming the conversation over, Kaze headed towards the vent she had mentioned. The medium square channel was situated lower on the ground on the corner wall nearest to the sink, once hidden behind a stack of stray boxes but was now out in the open after the earthquake (or whatever that was). The distance between them and the vent wasn't extensive, and the brunt of the quake was fortunately focused on the other side of the room. Thus, Kaze managed—sweat beading by her brow as she tiptoed all the way to dodge the pinpricks of glass, the debris of concrete, splintered wood, battered metal and shattered ceramic sprinkled all over. The butchered tiles made her wobble, but she made due by buckling her knees.

Kaze grounded her teeth, eyes taut despite everything else.

Only when they finally reached the vent did Kaze set Hisae down, gentle and mindful still of the latter's bare feet. The screws had always been loose, and it popped off with a rusty clang after a short wiggle of the bars. Grabbing the hem of her baggy shirt, Kaze ripped a thin piece, then another, grunting when her fingers ached at the pull. Nonetheless, she tied the two together for added length with a sturdy knot. Handing one end to Hisae, she winded her own end around her pinky.

"It's dark in there, so just follow the tug." She wasn't lying. The channel was drenched in pitch black, and Kaze knew she needed to get in first if a quicker pace is favored.

Hisae took the end handed towards her and wrapped it around her pinky just as Kaze did, allowing both of their hands free to crawl forward. Once they were sure that the knot was sturdy, Kaze crawled in first, shoulders bunching as she accustomed her size inside the cramped space. It used to be quite breathy when she was six, but she supposed everything changes when a person turns ten. Still, having the layout of the vents memorized three years ago turned out to be fruitful and she mentally gave herself a pat on the back for doing it.

Though her celebration was short-lived when an echo of a commotion could be felt vibrating through the smooth metal beneath her palms. Faint shouts and screams reached their ears along with sharp explosions, stark and violent that had Kaze freezing as the tremors took hold of her body.

_"K-K-Kaze-nee!"_

Jerking her head back, Kaze swallowed, chastising herself for becoming distracted when she has Hisae to worry about.

"We're fine," Her brows puckered at the lack of strength in her tone. "Come on, we have to hurry."

Decided, Kaze inched forward, crawling on her elbows with Hisae right behind her. Each shuffle forward on their hands and knees gave Kaze something to focus on, allowing nothing but a flinch when the steel beneath her shook every now and then. She turned at the necessary directions and Hisae, true to her agreement, followed without any comments given. It was like that for what seemed like an eternity, dark and silent with nothing but the occasional bangs and shouts from the outside overlapping their steady sound of breathing.

When Kaze finally reached the vent to their room—a subtle rectangular glow before her—she nearly cried out in relief.

"There!"

Halting a few feet before their exit, Kaze tugged off the torn piece of her shirt around her pinky before she shuffled around, a pinch between her brows as she moved in the tight space uncomfortably. The screws in their vent weren't as loose as it were in the kitchen, she was aware of it since the first time she attempted opening it years ago. Her knuckles had escaped bleeding that day from trying to punch her way out. A foolish method, but her eager yet naive mindset then had been lacking in strategy.

_'This was easier before,' _once Kaze finally had her position fixed, her feet came first now as she reclined on her elbows. Punching before hadn't done the trick.

But kicking did.

With a mighty heave of one leg, Kaze gave one furious kick and the bars gave. "Yes!"

Kaze didn't waste a second before she wiggled out, pushing herself to stand so straight that her joints clicked. Hisae came out a second after she did, face and hair still dusty with her tiny elephant's front legs tied around her wrist.

"Mama?" Hisae used her long sleeve to wipe the coat of dust clinging on her lashes, rushed to see her mother after such a horrible experience. Her Kaze-nee had protected her, but she yearned for her mother's comfort right now.

Wide eyes flickered up, expecting worried faces of her mother and uncles—only to recoil as reality slapped a macabre picture before her eyes.

Hisae wailed.

The high pitched sound of a child screaming would surely attract attention. Unwanted attention. Yet to Kaze, she couldn't hear it. It was distorted—a noise so warped it couldn't reach her hearing.

She didn't care.

It didn't matter.

Red eyes drank in the scatters of equally red floor; a thick trail of scraping, disordered crimson that began from the dripping bed covers all the way to the door, where the rusty knob was smeared in the same, angry color.

_'__No.'_

Rage rivaled her agony—building and building and _building _until it was suffocating. A chill unlike any other whispered in the depths of her heart as Kaze took in every dried drop of blood. A smudge here, a smudge there.

It was too much.

_'No!'_

They couldn't be dead. They were _dragged. _The evidence doesn't lie, they were hauled and hurt—but alive! There was a struggle here. The room may be destroyed after the quake, but the signs were _there._

They're not dead.

_'NO!'_

A gunshot rang through the air.

That was the last straw.

It was like a coil breaking. A chain Kaze didn't know existed breaking in half.

Her cheek itched to the point of pain.

_Ithurtsithurtsithurts_—

Kaze felt her stomach boil and her pathetic excuse of twiggy muscles spasmed to no return. And then that rush! That very rush that fed her turmoil earlier, to help her keep going—to help her _move_. The feeling rolled all over her skin that it pierced a screeching hitch to her ears.

It was painful—burning her very soul and spilling liquid fire.

But God was it _exhilarating_.

"Mama. . ."

Kaze looked down, staring at the anguish of Hisae as she gazed at the state of their room. The toddler's cheeks were wet and pale, the toy shoved so close to her face for comfort.

"Uncle Kou. . ."

Kaze clenched her hands into fists.

"OVER HERE!"

The panic had seized them both, but it was different for Kaze.

She felt it.

She felt her panic become a catalyst, and in the back of her head, in the pit of her gut, and in the tips of toes and fingers—she felt the emotion oozed out.

Then before Kaze knew it, she was three feet off the floor.

Hisae shrieked, high and loud just as each of their planked windows burst into smithereens, the abrupt gust of the wind catching and pulling on the strands of their knotted hair and on the fabric of their clothes, chilling their arms yet warming the tips of their nose.

But it didn't stop there.

Kaze felt the pull coming from the entrance of their room—banging the door against the wall so hard that the knob crushed. She felt it coming from the vents; from the tiny, minuscule, unseeing holes and openings—_everywhere_.

Kaze knew she should be panicking. She knew she should be alarmed and scared, but she wasn't. Far from it.

The wind looped around her and it felt like home. Wild, free and gratifying.

Serendipity at its finest.

_"__Let me help, child.__"_

Kaze gasped, startled at the deep, resonating voice from the back of her mind. Muddled as if sunken beneath water—but _there._

She had almost forgotten about that voice.

"W-Who—" Kaze closed her eyes, her stomach lurching when the wind shifted her around, slipping between her fingers and toes. "Who are you?"

There was no answer.

When Kaze opened her eyes, she shook with another surprise. She couldn't _just_ feel the wind.

She could see it.

Every flowy motion that ran towards her like ribbons dancing in seemingly no direction. She could see each smoky grey and faded blue, some as thin as threads and poles, while others were thick and wide like blankets. She could see it. She could see it all—each strip joining into one mass around her. _For_ her.

It was beautiful.

"A quirk." She rasped, lips tugging in disbelief. "I-I have a quirk."

Kaze didn't even think.

She yanked Hisae up, squeezing the girl back to her chest as the wind aided her in carrying the added weight. The ease took her off guard, but the feel of the wind dancing around her—contorting to her every need and command—it felt powerful.

"Hang on!"

Hisae barely managed to bury her face to Kaze's chest when the wind shot them off—barrelling past the door and down the hall in inhuman speed, black and peach tresses whipping about as their startled screams echoed their path. They shot past a group of men too, running towards their room wearing bewildered glares. Kaze scowled.

_'__Dao_._'_

One tendril of the wind—silver and thin as a whip—lashed out from the vortex swirling around her as the familiar touch of grating hatred ignited at the very sight of that monster. Kaze hadn't even realized it happen until she heard the pained curses coming from the man when he was punched through the wall by the wind.

Confused (and dimly pleased), Kaze set her gaze forward, eyes squinting. The banister shredded at the force of her wind when they passed and Hisae shrieked, burying her face more into the crook of Kaze's neck. It was only then—worried at the fear Hisae was oozing—did Kaze noticed the merciless state of her wind. Savage, careless and unforgiving—brutally whisking them past another group of men as they reached the heart of the commotion.

_'Are they fighting?'_

Kaze knew that there were heroes in the building, but with the wind swirling silvery blue around her, the faces she saw were blurry. Dao had mentioned about how some hero had traced the location back to their because of her meandering about stealing groceries. That and Zaro's group had been tagged as well.

Kaze felt her heart constrict as two realizations hit her then there.

One, Takumi and Haru were probably with Zaro when this ruckus began.

Two, there's a _hero _in the building.

"KAZE-NEE!"

Kaze tore them through the heavy basement door without even realizing it; completely destroying the doorway as they flew down another set of stairs then popped a hole straight through the moldy, wooden floor.

Someone was screaming.

It took Kaze seconds until she realized it was her.

Hisae was speaking to her, voice rushed in frantic slurs—but Kaze couldn't hear the former, the ringing in her ears too loud to comprehend other noises in the background. Her arms were instinctively around the toddler, but she couldn't feel her limbs. Not even as she received the full brunt of the gnarling scrapes of the planks breaking.

They were down within the second level of the basement in a blink.

"HISAE! KAZE!"

"Uncle Kou!"

The surge of wind died around them, abruptly cut off as Kaze briefly registered glimpses of Hanabi and Kouyou.

Her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth when—as she and Hisae fell—she thought she saw Takumi and Haru unconscious and caked in metallic red.

Kaze felt her body jolt when rough wood bit on her skin, splinters clawing out thin streaks of blood as her lungs wheezed, brain jerking at the rough landing. Hisae let out a yelp, clutching her shirt in a vice as they rolled into a stop, hair in their faces and hearts daring to beat out of their chest.

"Hisae! Kaze-chan!"

Kaze groaned when cold hands gripped her shoulders, another carefully prying the grasp she had coiled around Hisae.

Cracking an eye open, Kaze whimpered when a finger grazed the crook of her elbow.

"Sorry!" The touch was removed. "O-Oi, Kaze! Don't—_crap__! _Don't close your eyes—_AH!_"

"KOUYOU! LET HIM GO!"

The support keeping her upright by the courtesy of Kouyou was suddenly yanked away. Kaze wanted to protest, but the ugly smack of her shoulder against cold tiles peeled a gagged shout from her instead. It jarred the joint, an electrifying pain that dominated everything else.

"STOP IT! _Please!_ Let us go!"

"ANEUE!"

Body rolling to the side, Kaze tried gritting her teeth against the pain, the foul taste of copper filling her mouth as she lifted her left arm to push her up. Her right arm was useless, limp and numb but pulsing pain every second to her shoulder. She needed to get up—the pounding panic in her told her to get up. There was scuffle around her, voices screaming and crying that triggered her very fear.

Kaze scrunched her nose.

Putrid couldn't even begin to describe the smell clogging her nostrils right now.

Spurred by her disgust, Kaze turned her head, looking between sweaty strings of her hair—and wished she didn't.

Bodies. Bodies upon bodies were surrounding her—slumped in every inch of every corner, dumped and piled on top of each other with limbs twisted unnaturally as if the bones were caved in by pressure.

Kaze looked down, breath hitching when she could see red beneath her palm.

Blood was everywhere—old and fresh.

"You killed them," sucking in needed air, Kaze clenched her jaw, mentally screaming at the scent she just inhaled. "You _killed_ them."

Kaze pushed herself up again, surprisingly steady and unwavering as she righted herself to sit.

Across from her, the tall man held Kouyou's collar in one hand, pulling the feverish boy close to him whilst Hanabi was half laying near him, her leg injured and immobile. Hisae was hiding within her mother's arms, uncaring towards the blood she was coating herself into.

Then behind him, Kaze could see the unconscious forms of Takumi and Haru just as she had suspected.

Tipping his chin, a low hum vibrated in his throat as the tall man gave a slow scan around the room. "Oh, them? They're from earlier. Admittedly, I got carried away."

_"What?" _Kaze snarled at his shrug.

He blinked. "The snaps of bones are incredibly satisfying to hear, don't you know? They're a musical instrument all together if you just give the right—" he sighed, lone eye closing with a smile. "Pressure."

Hanabi screamed, arms wrapping tighter around Hisae.

_"Mama!"_

"ANEUE!"

Kaze hadn't known she had moved, but a second later, she found herself skidding before the blonde on her knees. Kouyou had gripped the last thread of his strength and miraculously found a sharp scrap of wood from the ceiling she had punctured. He didn't hesitate on jamming the wood into the tall man's foot—straight through boot and flesh.

"You little shit!"

Teeth grinding on teeth, Kaze turned, seizing Kouyou's wrist to haul him behind her together with Hanabi and Hisae and away from the fuming man. She needed to get Takumi and Haru—needed to feel their pulse on her fingers and their breaths, no matter how faint she expected it to be, fanning against her skin.

She needed them alive.

"Stay," was her simple order to Kouyou.

Picking up another scrap of wood, Kaze scrambled on her wobbly knees. Her movements came in tensed jerks, yet she pushed—driven by the rush of her anger and stabbing the man with her makeshift weapon on his side.

She fell when he cried out, the back of his hand catching her cheek in his reflex.

"Kaze!"

"I told you to stay!" It was a needless argument. Kaze scowled as she saw Kouyou suddenly on her side, acting as her support when she fell before he clawed his way to his brothers along with her.

"You're stupid if you think I won't help." Grunting, Kouyou took hold of his twin beneath his arms, shakily willing himself to a stand for a better grip.

Kaze chose not to respond to his riposte, biting the inside of her cheek instead in an effort to tuck away her burning worry. She worried for all of them, and her gut lurched at the familiar tug towards the wind—calling and pawing for its comfort to return. She needed it back, but the connection was suddenly weak.

They were in the basement, the second level.

Other than the hole she and Hisae had made when they crashed through, there was no other entrance for the wind to go through.

_'Crap,' _Heart caught in her throat, Kaze scrunched her nose as she draped Takumi's arm over her shoulder, braving against her own pain to drag him towards Hanabi and Hisae. Kouyou was already ahead of her when he stopped before his sister, gingerly laying down his twin beside Hanabi as sweat layered his forehead, breaths coming in heaving pants.

_'Crap!' _Kaze felt like crying. Her eyes burned as the dread in their situation finally dawned onto her. Kouyou was still sick—feverish, and it showed in his lidded eyes; Haru and Takumi were out cold from a cause she was unaware of; Hanabi's leg was broken, crushed beneath the tall man's sadistic quirk from earlier; and Hisae wouldn't move away from her mother, conquered and delirious with fear.

There was no way out.

In one disgusting squelch, the tall man pulled out the scrap of wood from his side, sneering at the wound that dirtied his coat before he bent down, tearing out the one on his foot caused by Kouyou with a furious yell.

"Doll," he slid his lone eye back at Kaze, dropping the two pieces of wood with a dull thud, hands bathed with his own blood. "You shouldn't have done that."

Hurried, Kaze heaved and heaved until she and Takumi were together with the others, knees buckling when she felt a tingle of his quirk press down onto her shoulders.

She gasped.

"I was going to spare you. At least then, even if this whole business burns to ashes, I'll still have some income."

Kouyou took his older brother from Kaze, his own fingers trembling when another press of the man's quirk weighed down on them.

Grateful but no need for words, Kaze let her gaze lingered towards Hanabi. The blonde could barely hold herself up, her hold around Hisae limp with pain and fatigue. Though she sought for Haru's unmoving hand, she couldn't reach.

_'Come on!' _Kaze tugged on the connection again, mind berserk with anxiety as she saw Hanabi began to faint, her body unable to carry the pain with a conscious mind. There was a response, but she was too deep underground that it would take a while for the wind to catch up. Faint, like a candle nearing to flicker. _'Come on! Come on! Come on!'_

"But I change my mind," the pressure began to grind, digging onto their bones with a relish. "I'll kill you all!"

His quirk set free.

With a scream, Kaze threw her body before the siblings just as the wind came tearing down the ceiling again in its journey. Ribbons of translucent blue and silver circling around them in furious swipes. There wasn't much as she had called before, but it was enough to act as a dome that momentarily hindered the pressure from the man.

It was a shield—a shield that made them feel as if they were in the eye of a tornado.

"Hang on!" Kaze tightened her grip around Kouyou, feeling his weak response as the wind roared in her ears.

Between the thick tendrils of cool colors, Kaze saw another man fall from the hole she created from the ceiling, his features obscured by tricky shadows and her wind. No one seemed to have noticed, but she did. He landed like a bat, odd wiry tape-like coils hovering around him like extended limbs with a flash of mustard yellow on his face.

There were movements—too quick for her eyes to see and adjust. But one thing was for certain.

The pressure over her dome of wind receded.

"Kaze. . ."

Startled, Kaze swiveled her attention towards Kouyou, only now aware that he had laid his head against her shoulder and his arms were growing loose around her. Over his shoulder, she could see Hisae tentatively lift her head from Hanabi's chest, curious as a lamb towards the wind that wiped the tears on her cheeks.

Feeling his weak chuckle against her neck, Kaze withdrew her tight hold around Kouyou.

"It's—" sighing, Kouyou gave in and let his eyes slid shut. "It's a nice quirk. . ."

She had the need to smile, yet couldn't muster her muscles to obey.

"You can sleep now, I'll protect you."

The wind died down, fading as the last of her fright oozed out of her system. The pressure was gone and before her, the tall man was gone.

Looking up, Kaze saw the tall man hanging by a beam, bounded by thick fabric snaking around his limbs and torso whilst one coil gagged his mouth. He was still as a rock, swaying at the breeze she left behind and for a moment, Kaze had doubt. It all happened so quickly and the action was lost to her.

But who—

"He's alive, if that's what you're wondering."

Kaze blinked out of her stupor, finally registering the newcomer who had barged in and helped them.

_'He deserves worse,' _was what she wanted to say, but even the thought seemed murky to digest, never more say them. She wondered when she had become so quick to morbid thoughts.

"Thank you," stiff, Kaze shuffled a little in her position, making sure that everyone was somewhat behind her.

The man took a step forward then, just beneath the soft light provided by the hole above. Only then did Kaze can make out tangles of long, raven hair partially obscuring a narrow, pale face—the inky strands appearing to be too thick for his lithe frame. His attire was equally as dark as his hair, covering most of his body from the length of his sleeves down to the soles of his boots.

It was black all over—all except for the strange, lengthy scarf wrapped haphazardly around his shoulders in thick coils. They were white as eggshells, somewhat resembling the fabric bounding the tall man.

Ignoring that comparison, Kaze lifted her gaze to meet the man's eyes, only to pause.

"What's that on your eyes?"

The man paused, his attention having been directed at the bodies scattered around the room. She saw him clench his hands, but with most of his face covered, Kaze couldn't quite read his expression.

But if he was shocked by the state of this room as she was, then this man must be not part of this organization.

Kaze froze as a thought swarmed her mind. _'He must the hero __then.'_

"What happened here?" The man began to walk towards her, his steps light but deliberate. Firm, but careful for her own welfare.

Kaze watched him crouch before her, long fingers gently grasping her shoulders as he tried to look for injuries. Apart from Hisae and the siblings, it was the most warming touch Kaze had ever received.

"They were brought here the other day, but they were already dead when I got here," she answered, averting her eyes as shame clouded her heart. She gestured up towards the bounded man hanging by the ceiling. "He said he killed them earlier. The people here. . . they're all unstable here."

Repeating Zaro's words from all those years ago seemed random, but Kaze couldn't quite think of anything else to describe the hell they were trapped in. She knew none of these dead people—she knew no one aside from her family and this organization.

The man took a moment to gauge her answer, then gestured behind her. "What about them? You were protecting them."

His voice was deep yet drawling, Kaze noticed. But there was curiosity in it, no matter how faint, along with a tinge of concern expertly masked. Yet he let it slip when Hisae wiggled out of Hanabi's grasp, stumbling in her haste to get to Kaze's side to hug her arm.

Kaze looked down at the crown of peach-colored hair, then glanced back behind her with a frown. "They're like family to me, mister. We're all we have."

He hesitated. "And how long have you all been here, exactly?"

"They've been here for five years, I've been here for four." Kaze motioned towards the unconscious siblings with a nod before looking down at Hisae, the latter's toy elephant still alive in her clutch. "Hisae was born here."

The man gave no reaction for a long time, his body frozen before her in a crouch, elbows on his knees while he kept his masked eyes at her.

Fingers curled into fists and he sighed, a twitch appearing on the corner of his lips as he stood up again.

"All right," he went towards the brothers as he addressed her, pulling out a pack of first aid kit to tend to their small injuries. "The police are on their way here along with an ambulance. They'll take care of you. These will do for now until the medics can take over."

He set his attention on Hisae then. "Are you hurt, kid?"

Shrinking in her shyness, Hisae had to be coaxed by Kaze before she could properly lend a response.

"Not hurt," Hisae mumbled. "Kaze-nee took care of me, but Mama and Uncle Kou and Uncle Haru and Uncle Taku hurt. Kaze-nee too."

Amused despite the situation, Kaze shook her head as the man chuckled, a ghost of a smile erasing his frown.

"I see, you're a brave girl."

Kaze warily eyed the man when he reached out to pat Hisae's cheek. Though upon closer inspection, she found that he was merely keeping the toddler's sight off the dead bodies.

Hisae finally let out a smile then held out her toy. "Akio is hurt too."

"I'll see what I can do."

For the next few minutes, Kaze sat on the floor, mute as the man—as the _hero_ tended to their injuries, wiping away the grime and cleaning what he could. He couldn't heal all of their injuries, but just he had said, they would hold until the authorities would arrive. He was mostly talking to Hisae, and for that, Kaze was thankful. She didn't think she can hold a proper conversation as the shock muddled in her system. Disbelief was the main emotion that weighed her down now—numbing her thoughts and muscles after such a whirlwind of other feelings earlier. She ached, but it felt faint. Far away as her mind dwelled for miles.

She has a quirk.

After four years, she has a quirk.

And that voice—that voice in the back of her head, the one she had thought to be a child's imagination at best—it came back. He only spoke once, yet his voice was rooted in her brain now; so deep and calming in this low growl. An octave lower than the depths of the ocean itself.

Kaze wanted to hear it again.

From a distance, the sound of sirens wailing reached their ears, halting the man's conversation with Hisae along with disrupting Kaze's thoughts.

"They're here." He sighed yet again, this time addressing Kaze fully as Hisae returned to her mother's side, nervous at the noise.

"It's over, kid. Don't worry." His tone was considerably softer to her ears, as if he spoke with a smile she couldn't see. And when he reached out to pat her on the head, it eased all the wrinkles of her worry with the subtle warmth he radiated.

It was over. Finally over.

She's free. _They're _free.

Safe.

He brought her head closer as he leaned forward, gentle as he guided her to his chest. "Just let it flow."

Kaze clenched her eyes and did as what's told.

She cried.

"I-I-It's ove-r-r?" Kaze sobbed, fingers gripping his shirt as her tears soaked the fabric. "I-I-Is it really? We're free?"

He nodded, chin rustling her hair. "You're free."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Kaze smiled through her tears as deep gratitude bloomed deep within her chest, solid and unending—a debt she knew she could never repay. And it was all because of this man.

This hero.

He had bested every single criminal in this building, especially the tall man—whose strength seemed so herculean compared to her.

But this hero defeated him. This hero was strong, and he saved them. Freed them.

It was all surreal to Kaze.

"Thank you. . ."

The man removed his hand on her hair before he took a look over his shoulder. "Not enough."

Kaze sniffed, chancing a glance at the direction he was gazing at then frowned. "I'm sorry about them."

"It's not your fault," he said it as if he was stating the weather. He stood when the sound of sirens grew louder. "I should go. You'll be fine now, kid."

Bobbing her head in a weak nod, Kaze reluctantly let go of her hold on his shirt, already missing the first comfort she had received other than her family.

"Thank you, again. I mean, really, _thank you. _I. . . I grew up here," she glanced back down at Hisae. "I don't want her to be the same."

"Then I should thank you too."

She blinked. "What for?"

"Your wind knocked down those criminals I was fighting earlier, you led me to their boss, and you protected others away from harm while I was taking him down." He inclined his head towards the tall man still hanging by the beam, unconscious. "You're strong."

Strong. . . Kaze smiled.

With a nod to himself, the man turned on his heels, satisfied as he began walking away.

"Keep that smile, kid."

When he left, the police arrived not a minute later along with bustling paramedics. The rest that happened was a blur to Kaze, messy and loud, but just as the hero had said, they were immediately taken care of. There were no survivors on the victims' end other than them, but the rest of the criminals found were detained, sent to a jail built for villains of their caliber. Or at least, that was what she heard.

In the middle of all the ordeal, she was tired.

Days spent in the hospital seemed to whiz by. The siblings woke up and information was fished by men carrying these fancy badges.

Either way, Kaze was barely attentive throughout the process. All she can remember was the man; how he had singlehandedly fought the villains and rescued them all before he was gone, leaving words that planted resolve in her heart and determination to set the course of her life.

She wanted to be strong too—the strongest. That way, she can protect her family from anyone and anything.

She swore on it.

* * *

**—roximately four days ago in east Mitaka City, the organization responsible for multiple human and child trafficking and drug exports has finally been taken down! The authorities had reportedly arrived around 1:34 am after its demise. The organization's leader, Shadow Eye—real name Kagami Yato—has been arrested along with a total of twenty-three other villains under his affiliation.**

**The hero responsible for their defeat is no other than the mysterious Eraserhead, even going so far as to stop an exportation of drugs issued by the organization that occurred halfway across the city. However, despite the success, there was a total of twelve dead bodies found in the second level basement of the building the villain organization was hiding in. Six injured, all minors, were also found in the second-level basement.**

**Four of these injured, as it turns out, were discovered to be the children of the late heroes Illusionist and Puzzle, recognized by Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa himself.**

**His words were—**

With a click of a tongue, the screen flickered off with a press of the remote, knobby fingers pressing onto the buttons until it cracked.

"This is troublesome."

* * *

**And that ends our introduction/origin arc :)**

**In case of confusion, here are their current age for this chapter:**

**Kaze, Haru & Kouyou: 10  
****Takumi: 15  
****Hanabi: 19  
****Hisae: 3**

**Aizawa was said to be an underground hero in the anime when he was introduced in the anime, so it was really fitting for him to be the one who saved them. **

**As for the 'news report' at the end, Hanabi is classified as a minor because, in Japan, you are considered as a minor if you are under 20 years old. **

**Things will finally begin next chapter. The rest of the cast won't be introduced yet since it will mainly be focused on Kaze getting into UA. Well, all I can say is that, she'll be getting into UA. . . differently :)**


	5. UA

**a/n: ****PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF MY WARNING IN THE VERY FIRST AUTHOR'S NOTE OF THIS FIC. **

As I've mentioned before, for the sake of this plot, it is** 'ASSUMED' THAT BNHA ENDED AT CHAPTER 216. **I repeat, **ASSUMED. ****All for the purpose of this plot alone. That warning applies FROM HERE ON OUT.**

Now, I will try to avoid spoilers as much as possible but, chances are, **there's always going to be spoilers. **

**Non-manga readers, **do proceed with caution. **Un-updated/forgetful ****Manga readers, **do proceed with caution or, better yet, try reading/re-reading. **Safe manga readers, **BNHA supposedly ends right after the Joint Training Arc for this fic, just to be clear. I hope you enjoy. **:)**

**p.s: ****the last three manga updates for bnha had me squealing _!_ **

* * *

**"You're kicking me out of the school?"**

* * *

_The common chatter was near deafening to his ears, a constant buzzing of wasps that proved to be more irksome than harmful. Yet true to the stoic persona he had successfully built upon himself, Shouto continued as per and robotically jerked his head to the side. Lips sealed shut and ears unhearing._

_The perfect language to tell anybody to leave him alone without even so much as a word._

_A scuffle at the front momentarily made him chance a glance towards the direction, looking past the various heads of his classmates and landing at the sight of his rather meek teacher. The man was holding up a stack of papers, then gradually, he began calling out names. _

_"Akari Bunta. . ."_

_Ah. Of course._

_"Fuuji Sawada. . ."_

_Today's homeroom was about discussing everyone's choices of school for the next chapter in their life: high school._

_"Kenji Himiko. . ."_

_No wonder he woke up with another layer to the bitter anger brewing close to his heart._

_"Minamo Ren. . ."_

_"Nio Karin. . ."_

_"Takeshi Fuyumi. . ."_

_Disinterested, Shouto went back to his gazing outside the window, trying_—_in vain_—_to uncurl his fingers from the fist he made beneath his desk._

_He better expect his father to hound on him later on._

_"Todoroki Shouto. . ."_

_Just the thought itself made Shouto want to hurl_—_blood crackling with wild abhorrence as he silently seethed in his seat. However, he did stand at the call of his name, pushing his feet forward in monochromatic rhythm until he stood before his teacher's desk, dozens of pairs of eyes drilling at the back of his head like phantom caresses._

_"As expected of my prize student," his teacher smiled, genuine and friendly, then handed him the paper that contained his future. "Good luck in UA, Todoroki-kun."_

_"Ah."_

_Despite the clear canvas of his face, he couldn't deny the slither of repulsion curling around his spine as he took the paper and went back to his seat. Shouto had long since accepted the red emotion feeding his very self, holding it as his center to the very drive that made him go through life every day. He accepted it_—_embraced it._

_Yet at the same time, a little bit of that repulsion was aimed at himself, and Shouto couldn't well explain _why.

_That was just the truth of his life._

_Closing his eyes, Shouto breezily managed through the day, mentally shoving away the commotion that gripped everyone's spirits after this morning's homeroom discussion. In class, he was silent and cooperative when needed to, but never failed to maintain a respectful distance._

_In some ways, it was all so. . . boring._

_His classmate's juvenile antics never had the opportunity to spark an interest in him, and Shouto reckoned they never will. As it was, they were perfectly fine with his attitude. They were polite, but uncaring. Charitable, but hesitant._

_"See you tomorrow, Todoroki-san." It was a girl. A gentle smile. A coy smile. Polite_.

_Fake._

_"Ah." __Nodding his own goodbye, Shouto left his school with the intent to dawdle. Not his usual pace, but he didn't want to see his father so soon yet._

_So he went to the usual area he would find himself lingering in._

_Without question, Shouto skimmed through the contents of his wallet and spent a modest amount of yen for a short bus ride then strolled for a ten-minute walk just to get to this area._

_A park._

"I used to go to this park when I want to be alone. It's near our house," _Shouto could almost hear her voice, cool and mellow with that childish pitch one would expect from a child. _"But coming to your place is better."

_A corner of his lips curved and he didn't even notice._

_Choosing a random bench within the wide expanse of grassy grounds, brick trails and full trees, Shouto sat down, lazily eyeing the few people taking refuge in this park too. The fiery anger in his lungs was momentarily gone the second he had arrived, succumbing beneath the old melancholy tugging his chest that_—_for a reason he could never know_—_had long since_ _refused to leave him even after he grew out of his childhood. For a while, Shouto deduced it was because of the moments he shared with her were the only ones he could recall from his past without sneering_—_w__ithout regretting._

_Somehow, that reason always sounded shallow._

_He never did find out where she lives. He just knew this park. _

_That was enough._

_Out of the blue, Shouto felt the bench he was sitting on gave a little with an added weight, snapping him out of his reverie as he lifted his head. _

_He watched as an elderly maiden make herself comfortable on the spot next to him._

_"Oh," she smiled, aged lines deep on her face. "I hope you don't mind me joining you, young man. I can't keep up with my grandchildren anymore." __When she gestured towards a pair of rambunctious boys running about the park, Shouto leaned further on his seat and nodded, strands of white and red flopping against his forehead. _

_"It's fine."_

_"Thank you," a pause, and then. "Do you come here often? I'm afraid I've never seen you before."_

_Fingers twitching at yet another interruption (he sincerely thought the woman would just let them share the bench in silence), Shouto swallowed the sigh and opened his mouth to answer. A clipped reply, really, but then he figured that the best way to waste time to avoid his father would be a lengthy conversation. _

_This woman seemed like she can give him that._

_"I don't come here often," he relaxed his frown to avoid appearing ill-mannered. "But, my classmate used to have an old friend who's from around here."_

_Oblivious to the slip of a white lie, the old lady hummed in thought. "I've lived here for most of my life. Perhaps I know your classmate's friend?"_

_It was that innocent suggestion poised as a question that made Shouto freeze, a lump blocking his throat out of thin air._

_He paled._

_He didn't come here for answers. In fact, he stopped wondering since he turned ten._

_But maybe. . ._

_Just maybe. . ._

_. . . Should he?_

_Futilely trying to squish down the hope, Shouto popped his mouth open again to say her name, but paused. The old lady may know _her_, but was she acquainted enough for first name basis?_

"I don't have many friends, Shou-kun, you're my only one. Like I'm yours!"

_Shouto settled for saying her last name. "Shibata."_

_Whatever answer he was looking, it wasn't the grim expression instantly souring the grin on the old woman's face and with it_—_whatever sweet and innocence he had left in his heart began to shatter__._

_"I'm sorry, child." She carefully sucked in a breath. "I didn't mean to breach such a sore subject. My condolence to your classmate."_

_The ice in his veins, not of his own, should have been a warning enough to keep him from probing. _

_He kept the ruse. _

_After all, what use is there for pity? _

_"What do you mean?"_

_The old lady furrowed her brows. "I suppose you wouldn't know, but everyone in the neighborhood has been plagued by it since. I can understand if your friend doesn't want to talk about it either." She sighed. "It really was tragic."_

_The crack in his voice wasn't the work of desperation. It wasn't. "What happened?"_

_Solemn, the lady folded her hands on her lap, her dark eyes conveying the pity Shouto was thoroughly avoiding. But it wasn't for him._

_Somehow, that made him angry._

_"The Shibatas' daughter was a prodigy, but she was also reckless. Even as a young girl, no one in their right mind would let their children near her_—_and__ they were right too, because her quirk killed her family and herself in an accident."_

•

•

**5 Years Since Manumission  
****PRESENT TIME**

•

•

"**I'M **afraid that I don't understand, Daichi-kouchou," one distressed hand raked through the thick, floppy strands of onyx hair, a sigh escaping past frowning lips in raggedy stillness.

"You're kicking me out of the school?"

It was, indeed, an absurd notion. Ridiculous and downright impossible even. Had she not given anything but her very best? All those time spent with her nose buried deep in her textbooks, the tips of her fingers numb from scribbling knowledge down to her notes, her mind and body exhausted after daring it past to her limits—had she not met all the required requirements and _pass__ed?_

Out of anything to worry about, being kicked out of the school was one thing Kaze hadn't considered.

Yet here she was.

Behind his desk, the principal—a cross between a man and a stag—released one hefty breath, reaching to push his round glasses up on the bridge of his rather thick snout. A comical sight, really, but Kaze was in no mood for humor at the moment.

She was being kicked out.

"I'm afraid that you're the one who doesn't understand, Uchiki-san," shuffling through the files scattered around his desk, the principal took one and cleared his throat. "We're recommending you to another school—"

"It's the same thing."

"Please let me finish," with a frown, Tanaka Daichi raised his voice, eyeing the girl before him with a narrowed scowl. Nose flaring as he released a vexed exhale, he went and started again. "Listen well, whatever you think the reason why I am recommending you to another school—it is not what you think." He tipped his chin, fur bristling at the glare his student was currently shooting him with.

"Then humor me," Kaze leaned forward, elbows on her knees with a scowl. "You did not summon me here this Saturday morning just because of some trivial matter, did you, kouchou."

For a moment, she swore those sturdy antlers seemed to rattle at her brash tone, but when Tanaka continued, he not only proceeded with utmost patience, but also chose to ignore her brutal accusation.

"As you well know," he straightened. "Seigi Academy isn't exactly the ideal school for students inspiring to become professional heroes. We excel in educating those going through the Business and General Education Course."

"I've heard of this already in the orientation." Pursing her lips, Kaze forced back a growl; fingers twined loosely in a show of composure.

All the principal could give was a shrug. "Yes, well, providing the Hero course is more of an obligation than anything. In the past, our school may have been one of the notable Hero Academies, but that's just it. In the past."

_'I've heard of that too.' _Kaze bit back her frustration. Her ire may be reasonable, but she wouldn't dare sneer in the face of her principal. It wouldn't do her any good. Not now. Still, she would've appreciated it if he would simply head straight to the point.

She already knew of the school's history from last year's orientation, the day she became a first-year student. Prided for—as said—their Hero Course in the previous era, but what they didn't include in the orientation could be understood easily.

With elite academies such as UA and Shiketsu building their repute as the years pass, it was sufficed to say that Seigi's epoch was near extinction. Especially with other famed schools such as Ketsubutsu rising in fame.

It was a shame, really, but that still fails to explain her presence here.

"I understand that it is quite a pity, Daichi-kouchou," there was no sympathy in her tone. "But I still don't know why I'm being kicked out."

Setting down the file back on his desk, Tanaka Daichi resisted on correcting the girl's address towards him. For the whole year he's known of her, she's built quite a character to herself.

Especially with the fact that she's quick to jump on first-name basis.

An irritating persona of hers, really, and also quite disrespectful—if one doesn't know who Kaze is.

Tanaka Daichi had long learned that the girl doesn't exactly do it simply for some mockery purposes. She just _does. _She does not give respect when she deems an individual unworthy, though that doesn't entirely mean that she has an antagonistic persona. Once this girl uses a proper title or suffix (and it took Tanaka a damn while to get her to address him as _kouchou_), it meant a loyalty from her is unquestioned and solidified—her respect given once recognized.

But this is still a problem.

He sighed yet again. _'What to do with you, Uchiki Kaze?'_

"Uchiki-san, you were absent from class the whole week."

"I told you that I was with Gang Orca for my internsh—"

"Yes, I'm aware," he waved a casual hand. "That's not exactly my concern. However, the main reason why I called you here in my office this morning is simple." All sense of casual neutrality drained away from his features, dark eyes boring deep into cherry red ones.

What Tanaka said next was not only difficult for her, but for him as well.

"As of last week, all first-year and second-year students dropped out of Seigi's Hero Course."

Kaze nearly toppled.

". . . Pardon?"

Her utter confusion—a piteous picture of a pale, wide-eyed girl—softened Tanaka's expression to a degree.

"Seigi Academy only has a total of thirty-six students under the Hero Course; fourteen third-years, ten second-years, and twelve first-years. You included." Standing up from his plush chair, Tanaka rounded his desk to stand before the girl, his wide frame dwarfing hers as he loomed above as her very own shadow. He did not like looking down at her like this. Somehow, looking at the crown of Uchiki Kaze's bowed head felt wrong.

Undeserved.

So he did the right thing.

"In addition, out of all the students who participated, only one passed this year's Hero Provisional License Exam," inclining his head towards her, Tanaka Daichi offered a rare smile. A sight strangely but fortunately befitting on his snout. "And that's you, the only first-year."

Kaze raised her gaze without lifting her head. "But—"

"We're starting a new school year, Uchiki-san," he declared. "The third-years already have their individual offers to apply in a Hero agency after their graduation, though I'm afraid none of them have the ambition to become more than a sidekick. Which brings us to your batch and the soon-to-be third-years." Subtly twisting to his side, Tanaka snagged his earlier discarded file then temporarily tucked it beneath his arm. "All of them decided to switch course. Your batch simply lacks the motivation while your upperclassmen lost their courage to continue after failing the Hero Provisional License Exam."

"So they just went up and quit?"

Tanaka frowned at her tone, but said nothing against it. "Yes, they did."

It was quite the disappointment, truly. In fact, it was more than a disappointment.

In all his years serving as the school principal, Tanaka Daichi had seen the once energetic Hero Department diminish. It was a slow, trickling process; youths with high potential immediately chose the elite academies to properly train their quirks and skills to become the greatest among the greatest, then those who were late bloomers went to other schools that can promise them success.

And then there was their school. Tanaka couldn't quite pinpoint the time when it began happening, but now, only those who thought being a Hero was a plaything attend here. The old vigor this school had was lost and the fire that separates a true hero from daydreamers faded. Their school was a joke in Hero Academics, and Tanaka Daichi observed it all with a blank face. Disappointed.

But then Uchiki Kaze happened and he would not dare to drag such a bright potential in his school's downfall.

"The decision was final," Tanaka nodded to himself. "The school is permanently taking away the Hero Course. With no one to teach, it's futile. And it is a waste of our budget to continue when the number of students enrolling decrease year after year. I—" he clenched his jaw. "—I'm sorry to say this to you, but the school can't have you here any longer, Uchiki-san."

There was a pause.

A lengthy, awkward pause as the principal waited for Kaze to reply. The situation was surreal, an almost whimsical experience that she found difficult to believe.

She could just laugh at this and shrug in the end.

But that's wishful thinking.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Kaze raised her head, brows furrowed as she stared up at her stag of a principal. His height used to alarm her along with the width of his stubby shoulders, but he was nothing but watchful over her progress, akin to that of a silent guardian, and she trusts him. That was all she could give him anyways, her trust and respect.

And she would do so now.

"You . . . You said you're recommending me to another school?"

Tanaka smiled again. "That I am. This is the only way I could help you with since I got the feeling that you wouldn't just change course like the rest of your peers did."

She smirked at that. Her classmates weren't that bad, though she couldn't say for certain. She didn't know them that well. Sure, they were all awed and supportive when she had entered the Hero Provisional License Exam, the only freshman accompanying their upperclassmen.

But then the unthinkable happened. She passed whilst the second-years all failed, leaving Kaze to awkwardly brush away the distinguished gap between her and everyone else. A gap they had consciously made aware of.

Unaware of her thoughts, Tanaka finally handed her the piece of paper that's been hiding under his arm, a mellow yet eager smirk shaping his snout.

"Here."

Kaze didn't take the paper for herself, choosing to read it directly with Tanaka holding it up before her.

**Recommendation ****to  
UA High School**

Needless to say, she choked on air. "U-U-U-_UA?!_"

Nodding, Tanaka gave a soft chuckle at her reaction. "I managed to pull some strings. I contacted their principal last Tuesday, and their reply came faster than I thought it'd come."

"But, kouchou," hesitantly, once the shock was drained, Kaze took the file. A simple piece of paper that could somehow alter her education—no, her _life_ for the better. "Isn't this, I don't know. . . a bit too much?"

"Nonsense!" With a snort, Tanaka went back around his desk, carefully plopping down on his chair as he began to shift through the mess of papers on his desk again. "I mean it when I say that you're full of unknown potentials, Uchiki-san, and our school is quite privileged to have you as our student. Especially after you received your Provisional License. However, with our current situation, the school can no longer be of service to you. But I can't let a talent such as yours go to waste just like that. Here," Tanaka slid out one folder beneath a stack of books, handing it over to Kaze with a bright grin. "That paper you're holding is just a copy of the request letter I've sent to them after I called them. They called back last Wednesday, but this one holds all the official documents needed."

"Wait," Kaze froze before her fingers even touched the folder. "Official?"

"Yes," Tanaka answered, willing himself to slow down lest the girl loses blood with how much pale she's getting. "They agreed to have you if you want to."

_If you want to._

Kaze fell slack, the shock finally seizing her as the numbness fell into nothing. The disbelief washed away any other emotions she was feeling, overwhelmed with the sudden opportunity that was being shoved into the palm of her hands. Like a drop of gold from the sky. She couldn't quite believe it.

Her school just ended the Hero Course in their system.

She was being kicked out.

She _was _kicked out.

Then UA wants her in their school.

_'How in the world do I react to that?'_

"Look—" releasing a deep breath, Tanaka tried a different approach. "UA wasn't the only school I reached out to last Tuesday. Believe me, I was surprised too when they answered as soon as possible." He chuckled. "But, I was told that they remember you from last year's entrance exam."

In a complete turn of events, Kaze felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Oblivious to her reaction, Tanaka continued with a thoughtful hum. "I was surprised to hear that. I can reassure you that they were impressed, even though you—"

"Kouchou."

The words yielded on the tip of his tongue.

Sighing through her nose, Kaze flicked open the folder that was handed to her with a distracted gaze. Tanaka wasn't joking when he said every document needed was here, piled neatly with a paperclip to keep them organized: all her marks from the previous semesters graded in with an average she would've been normally proud of; all of her personal information and documents, then an assessment dedicated to the characteristics of her quirk.

And then finally, the letter sporting the logo of the country's most esteemed Hero academy.

Her thumb dug a little too hard on the paper.

It was all still _surreal._

With a snap, Kaze closed the folder. "I can't accept this."

It was Tanaka's turn to blanch. "Wha—"

"I failed." She frowned. "I took the exams last year and I failed. I'm not fit for this."

"Uchiki-san," with a fierce scowl, Tanaka straightened his spine and clasped his fingers to form a bridge on top of his desk. "You may not be worthy before, but that does not mean that you are not worthy now_. _If you took their exams last year then that means that you were interested. Yet, now that another chance is given to you, you decline. Why?"

"They changed into dorm-system."

The answer was simple. Simple and foolish, maybe, but Kaze was serious.

It wasn't false that UA had been her first choice of high school, nor was it false that she had been wrecked at the fact that she _failed_ their exam last year.

Clenching her jaw, Kaze clenched her eyes shut, attempting to clear her thoughts of the muddy shock due to the situation and _think._

A hero was what she wanted to become. It was what she _strived _to become for a very simple reason.

However. . .

Kaze raised her head and stared right into the dark gaze of her principal. "Daichi-kouchou, I can't accept this now. I mean, I'm thankful—really. You're talking about UA!" She huffed a dry laugh. "I appreciate what you're doing to me but, Musutafu City is nearly two hours away by train and I. . . I can't be apart from my family."

Tanaka's eyes widened a smidge.

_'Of course.' _Taking in a deep breath, Tanaka glanced down at the pale hands gripping the manila folder. Kaze's words were absolute, her voice unwavering with her thoughts. She said what she meant and uttered it with a steel resolve.

Tanaka thought grimly, that anyone who knew Uchiki Kaze was well aware of how much she values her family; evident with the fact that she rarely connected with her classmates and choosing to venture towards the General Education Department, where Uchiki Haru and Uchiki Kouyou attends.

Other than the twins, the girl herself was withdrawn. Aloof towards her peers and selective towards adults. Tanaka liked to think that it was because of his meddling habits (as the principal) that he was able to connect to Kaze at all.

At this point, Tanaka was powerless to argue. But that does not mean to say that there's no remedy.

"Talk with your family then, Uchiki-san."

"I told y—"

"You want this," with one final smile, Tanaka assumed to cater back to his papers. "If you hadn't, then I suggest you be careful with the folder, Uchiki-san. You're going to tear it with the way you're holding it."

* * *

**Don't forget the groceries**  
_received 9:12am_

**And please pick up Hisae on your way back. Thank you!**  
_received 10:04am_

The screen flickered shut with barely a proper glance, forgoing to even bother a reply before the device was slid back into the pocket of her beige sweater, safe along with the ring of her keys.

Clutching the small bag of groceries with one hand, Kaze walked down the empty sidewalk in a languid pace, hitching the strap of her satchel higher upon her shoulder with her other hand as the light breeze brushed aside short strands of her hair from her cheeks like the dainty touch of a feather. A heedful yet frisky air—sweet at the heart-shaped cherry petals painting the near-empty streets in vivid pink.

A colorful picture with an easy atmosphere, placid with a lone ladybug fluttering by.

Kaze relished in the tranquility.

Today marks the beginning of spring, yet another new beginning.

Quite literal to her predicament.

Heaving out a sigh, Kaze eyed the melting popsicles within the hands of children as she passed them by. The lime colors were tantalizing to look at, though not as tempting in the summer. Still, she would have preferred one. After all, there was nothing better to enjoy a quiet moment with than a popsicle stick.

She needed it right now. Comfort food, that is, to ease her turmoil.

_'Recommendation to UA. . .'_

Pausing in her steps as thoughts of ice creams floated out of her head, Kaze took the folder out of her bag yet again with her free hand, doing so for what's probably the hundredth time since she left Tanaka Daichi's office.

_'Acceptance to UA,' _she huffed. _'I'm not dreaming, am I?'_

Confused was a meager description to her reaction when her stag of a principal called their residence yesterday—on the last day of school, no less—asking for her presence out of the blue. And just when she came back from another internship too, exhausted and dead on her feet. However, she couldn't quite go against Tanaka's orders (she can, actually, but Hanabi's word was law), no matter how rare it is of him (try never) to call their house.

But still, out of all possibilities. . .

Kaze didn't expect her meeting with the principal to go like _that_ at all.

"UA. . ." skimming through the contents of the folder yet again when she flipped it open, Kaze held one end with her free hand whilst she hooked her pinky with one thread of a silver wind, urging the element to keep the folder balanced as she singlehandedly read.

She hummed. "Daichi-kouchou really outdid himself this time."

He had. All the documents needed to be were here and ready for her without further prompt. The only thing left to do was go to UA itself and settle the final arrangements.

How convenient.

It was already the middle of March, the start of spring break. Soon, April will come knocking down the doorsteps and another year of school will start.

She has to decide quick.

Huffing out her mild irritation, Kaze continued down the path, her steps long and hurried compared to her earlier leisure. She snapped the folder closed when she turned the corner, holding it by her side instead of stuffing it back into her satchel. A familiar red roof caught her eyes and she slowed, stopping before a black gate to do her third task for today.

With the folder still in her hand, Kaze rang the doorbell with a finger. Not even five seconds later, the mahogany door across the short yard cracked open and out came a mother with curly red locks and apple-green eyes.

"Kaze-chan! It's been a while." The woman grinned wide as she called, eyes crinkling with the bunch of her cheeks. "You're here for Hisae-chan, right?"

"Yes." Kaze nodded, returning the smile with a thin one.

"Wait a second," the woman sauntered back in with a nod. Soon, a muffled shout echoed right after.

Leaning against the concrete wall separating the yard from the street, Kaze didn't need to wait for long. For the second time, the door swung open and out bounded a girl with a head of wild peachy locks, clad in a simple assemble of puffy, white shorts, a gentle tee and a small backpack that housed her belongings.

"Kaze-nee!"

"Hisae," this time, Kaze's smile went untroubled. "It's time to go home, bug."

Nodding, the younger girl grinned her widest and she turned, waving to another redheaded child now standing next to her mother.

"Until next time, Chiyo-chan!"

"Yeah! It's your turn to host next time!"

"Got it!"

Once the kids' farewells were through, Kaze continued down the path, nodding her regards towards the mother of Hisae's friend. In return, the woman simply offered a wave. It was a clipped communication, but Kaze had never had the opportunity to initiate a proper conversation with the redheaded mother. It was usually Haru who would pick up Hisae from a visit to Watanabe Chiyo—Hisae's closest friend as of date, and naturally, he was the one who was most familiar with Watanabe Chie; the mother. However, today was different from any other visit.

Today, Hisae came back from her very first sleepover, and she had duly requested Kaze to be the one to pick her up.

Never one to turn down a request from the girl, Kaze had agreed.

It was partly the reason why Hisae was spoiled.

Said girl shuffled next to Kaze, round eyes taking in the scenery with content. Just like her aunt.

Kaze slid her eyes down at the girl. "How was the sleepover?"

"Great!" Hisae smiled, a crooked smile that resembled her uncle Haru's to a fault. "I was nervous at first, but I managed through the night."

"No nightmares?"

"None. Where were you before?"

"The school," Kaze handed the girl her folder, a tiny, humorless smirk set on her lips as she gestured for Hisae to read it. "Daichi gave me this."

"It's 'Daichi-kouchou', Kaze-nee. Mama told you how many times already."

Kaze simply shrugged her apology. "A slip of the tongue."

"Sure, sure." Humming in distraction, Hisae cracked open the manila folder before she feasted on the words, a wrinkle appearing on her nose as she concentrated. It was almost adorable, really.

Especially when those snow blue eyes widened in pure shock.

Hisae stopped.

"K-K-_Kaze-nee!_" She almost hit Kaze on the face when she jerked the folder up. "It's—this is. . . _you're moving to UA?!"_

"Quiet down," against herself, Kaze chuckled at the girl's rosy cheeks and growing grin; the epitome of pure wonderment that made the spring view feel bland in comparison.

"You're going to alert the whole world."

"But—LOOK!" As if Kaze hadn't read the papers numerous times already, Hisae heavily pointed at a paragraph. "It says here that your recommendation is accepted! All you need to do is go to your interview, pass the evaluation exam and then—" Hisae gasped. "Oh my god, _y__ou're going to UA!_"

Startled—and reasonably piqued at the mention of the elite academy—passersby eyed the two youngsters with baffled eyes, hushed whispers on the edge of their tongue that had Kaze walking faster, gently tugging her niece along to escape public attention.

After she was sure that they had quite the distance to ensure a private conversation, Kaze glanced down at Hisae with uncertainty.

"I'm not sure I'm going," she sighed, gaze averting to escape the incredulous look she knew she was receiving.

She had known that Hisae would react this way—had expected it the second she made her exit from Seigi Academy for what's probably to be the last time as its student. She knew Hisae would be thrilled, excited, and just plain awed as if she had won the lottery in one go. After all, ever since the latter watched that prestigious school's sports festival last year, UA was all she chattered about—UA _this, _UA _that. _At one point, it was somewhat annoying, but at the same time, Kaze couldn't quite describe the bittersweet feeling then as she watched Hisae cheer at the television for those first years.

Hisae could have been cheering for _her._

"What do you mean?" Scoffed Hisae as she followed Kaze down the path to their home. "You want to get stronger, right? Then you'll get stronger in UA!"

"True, but then I'll have to leave you for a long time." Kaze rebuked, arching a brow at Hisae in a semi-challenging manner.

"You can visit us sometimes. Or we can visit you!" Stomping down her foot in frustration, Hisae clapped the folder shut with a huff. "Seriously, Kaze-nee. You used to love UA too. We're not stopping you from going, right?"

No answer.

"Right?"

Biting her tongue, Kaze closed her eyes in defeat, willing herself to calm down less something drastic happens. The wind had begun to stir around her and she couldn't quite afford another mishap.

"Yes," she rolled her eyes. "You're right."

She couldn't quite say that Hisae doesn't understand, because Kaze definitely knew that she does, but the kid often fell blind to see the bigger picture. Granted, they didn't have the same goal—and Kaze didn't think she'd fancy the thought of Hisae wanting to pursue a job so dangerous—but there were matters that Kaze couldn't completely discuss to the eight-year-old.

Hisae was young, yes, but she didn't grow up as most would. Her old mind doesn't fit her young body and for that, Kaze has no trouble in remaining honest towards her.

But this?

This was one thing that Kaze didn't think Hisae can understand. Once upon a time, she wanted to go to UA—yearned for it even. Once upon a time.

Now? She wasn't so sure.

This was a personal matter that Kaze didn't think anyone can understand.

Frowning, she watched Hisae look down at the manila folder again from the corner of her eye, her face still holding that precious glow with the proudest smile she could ever muster.

Her heart twinged.

_'What to do?' _Pursing her lips, Kaze thought of other schools she could consider.

There was Shiketsu—a rival to UA in all its right, but never quite meeting on solid ground. Still, it was better than most.

However, Shiketsu was farther than UA, and that meant a longer train ride. Though Kaze wouldn't mind riding with the wind, that would be a waste of energy (and her quirk), and a longer train ride is a waste of money. Especially when the tuition fee would be heavier than normal. The only solution would be to move out and look for an apartment near the school.

That's basically the same as moving into UA.

Frustrated, Kaze mentally listed other schools. Ketsubetsu and Seijin were nearer than most. Now while the former was more preferrable, she brushed off those two from her choices before for a reason.

Well, more like, _they _brushed her off before.

They didn't like her so-called 'disrespectful attitude'.

Kaze groaned to herself. Why did Seigi have to quit the Hero Course? So yes, the academy was below than subpar in terms of Heroics 101, but she landed as an intern to _Gang Orca. _Seigi was a quiet school and she was a quiet student—her family remains safe with that silence. Thus, she prefers it.

Then there was UA—loud and dominant UA in all of its eminent glory.

If she'd attend UA, how could she even protect her family from afar?

Lost in her thoughts, Kaze raised a hand to her cheek, idly tracing the gentle lines of the kanji she knew was there. Haunting.

"Kaze-nee?"

Startled, dark eyes stared down at Hisae at the call of her name. "Yeah?"

Frowning, it took a while until Hisae gathered her response, her concern dimming the excitement in her eyes the longer she observed her aunt weighing her options. She read the report from Seigi amongst the file. She knew what was happening and she knew it was eating Kaze's focus.

She wanted to say something.

Too bad they were already standing on the doorstep to their home.

Clutching the folder to her chest, Hisae watched as Kaze fished for her keys in the pouch pocket of her sweater, her brows puckered still. As it had been for minutes now.

Her frown deepened. "Uncle Haru always say that you worry too much."

"He's not wrong," sliding in the key, Kaze opened the door with a click, stepping aside to let Hisae in first whilst she took off her shoes.

"Well, you should worry less." With that, Hisae dashed inside the house, toeing off her shoes in a hurry before she bounded up the stairs, her steps a continuous thunder that probably alerted everyone in the house of their presence.

Kaze sighed. "Tadaima!"

A muffled reply of 'welcome home' gave hint to Kaze that Hanabi was probably preoccupied elsewhere. Dutifully, Kaze slipped on her house slippers before stowing away her shoes—including Hisae's hastily discarded ones—by the entrance, hiking her satchel up her shoulder again as she fixed her grip on the grocery bag. With one last glance towards the stairs, she headed straight towards the kitchen, passing by the living room in her route where she temporarily discarding her satchel on the couch.

When Kaze arrived in the kitchen, she found Hanabi busying herself with the oven, the fresh powdery scent of flour and eggs still lingering in the air.

Kaze felt her worry temporarily unfurl as she grinned.

Cake.

"Ah, Kaze!" Sitting by the island and waiting for Hanabi's pastry, an elderly man smiled with deep laugh lines on his narrow face. "Welcome back, Hanabi was just about finished with dessert. Come sit with me."

Kaze approached the man with a respectful incline of her head. "Of course, Uchiki-dono."

Uchiki Aohei, the grandfather of the siblings and Hisae's great-grandfather. Their lone living relative in the world. Uchiki Aohei was a respectable man with a buoyant lifestyle that almost permanently lifted his chapped lips into a cheeky smile. A smile that the twins perfectly inherited in terms of mischief. His greying hair held a fading tint to the brothers' signature orange color too, albeit short, scruffy and balding; with narrow eyes that went perpetually closed most of the time due to the width of his grins.

Nonetheless, despite his lax personality, he was the only person Kaze would forever uphold with the highest of respects. A man who, in her books, could never do wrong. After all, Uchiki Aohei was the man who had been quick to approach them five years ago. The man who had fought for their custody (not that it was a difficult battle) and the man who had shown them a proper home.

Aohei was the man who had painstakingly kept his patience despite the hard road.

He was strong for his age, that Kaze had no doubt about despite his shaky knees and worsening eyesight. But for a man to lose his only son, his daughter-in-law, his wife and his grandchildren along the years, Kaze couldn't bring herself to imagine his pain—the burden of solitude he must've endured until they came along. She could still recall how he had wept and grieved after knowing what his grandchildren went through for five years; the anguish in his eyes when he learned the truth about Hisae and that defeated paleness to his skin when he found out what the brothers had done just to ensure their survival. . .

Kaze wondered just how the man handled it all and still end up smiling.

And she had never been more grateful towards him when he not only openly took in Hisae without question, but her too.

"Enough with the 'dono', I'm just a humble grandpa." waving a hand at the title she stubbornly used from the very beginning, Aohei wrinkled his nose in jest.

Grinning, Kaze shared a quick look with Hanabi when she passed by to take the bag of grocery.

"But Uchiki-dono, a humble grandpa shouldn't eat too much sweets."

"Blasphemous!" He snorted.

Shaking her head in jest, Kaze could only chuckle to herself.

He'll never change.

"Hanabi," straightening in his seat, Aohei made a show of sternly puffing his chest and setting his face into the traditional, neutral expression of a stereotypical patriarch. "Don't you ever listen to this girl's ramblings. They are lies."

Idly pulling on her mittens, Hanabi hid the roll of her eyes and grinned.

"As you wish, ojii-chan."

Dropping his act, Aohei beamed as the blonde pulled the oven open, a wisp of the sweet, creamy smell of the cheesecake enticing both him and Kaze as they greedily took it in.

He sighed. "This is why you're my favorite."

"That's not fair, ojii-chan!"

"I kid, I kid."

"Seriously," shaking her head at her grandfather's shenanigans—although she couldn't deny her own mirth—Hanabi set the baking dish down before taking a thin-bladed knife to run along the edges to avoid the cake sticking to the pan after being basked into a waterbath; lips twisted into a satisfied curl at the puffy yet firm tone of the cheesecake with a mouthwatering golden sheen.

_'Perfect.' _Grinning, Hanabi set to finish her task. She had prepared the pastry early this morning as a meager form of celebration and a 'welcome back' for Kaze, who had been away for a week due to her hectic internship. Supposedly, the blonde would've gone to work on the cake yesterday noon, yet the dark-haired girl had convinced her to postpone it to this morning in favor of rest.

Admittedly, Hanabi hadn't done a very good job in masking her concern then, unlike her brothers. Her grandfather had even chosen to omit a comment too, letting the girl he had come to love as one of his grandchildren pass him by with eyes barely seeing in her exhaustion. Not that any of them could blame her, she and Gang Orca were stationed in Kyoto that week—chasing after a troublesome mafia organization that had somehow rooted its influence like weeds on a dead lawn within the city.

Now as far as Hanabi was aware, it was a pesky ordeal, yet Kaze slipped through the mission with little injuries sustained and barely crucial at all. Still, the blonde would've preferred the younger girl to take it easy every once in a while.

Ever since she had gotten her internship, it was all Kaze does—hardly even trying in school at all.

"So," shaking those thoughts out of her head, Hanabi went to put the cake in the fridge to cool it down for a few hours. "Why did Tanaka-kouchou called you to school?"

"Was it about your internship?" Added Aohei, a sober look replacing his cheeky demeanor despite of Hanabi sliding a plate of—cooled—muffins and cookies before him and Kaze. Some snacks to chew on whilst they wait for the cake.

"No," Kaze accepted the peanut butter and chocolate cookie Aohei handed to her. "It was about their announcement, apparently. Didn't Haru and Kouyou tell you?"

Hanabi paused from cleaning her mess, frowning. "Know about what?"

Propping her chin on her hand, Kaze set the bitten cookie on her bottom lip.

"Seigi's shutting down their Hero program. Daichi-kouchou said that everyone from the first and second year dropped out in the course, and with the third-years graduating, there's no one left to teach."

"What?!" Hanabi nearly dropped the pan she was holding. "But that's impossible!"

Kaze shook her head. "I know, right? I'm getting kicked out because of that."

"WHAT?!"

"Well, if you look at it this way," significantly calmer than his granddaughter, Aohei rubbed his jaw as he sighed. "This school year has come to an end, and I suppose it's reasonable for everyone to settle their decisions once everything has calmed down. Gives them time to finish all the necessary troubles too. What about the next batch?"

"They don't have enough budget for the next batch and enrollees are decreasing every year," solemn, Kaze ducked her head in part shame. "Seigi's done."

Faced by the finality in her tone, neither Hanabi nor Aohei knew what to say in return, a lump festering in the base of their throat as they savored a moment to mourn for Seigi.

The school wasn't much. The tuition was average, the facility was average and the students were average—but Tanaka Daichi had been a dear friend since the very beginning. A proud believer in the act of heroism and all of its gray areas. The stag had not only pushed Kaze, but he had adjusted to their circumstance as well.

No one knew, of course. But the principal wasn't blind to dismiss the odd puzzle pieces of their family.

Grimly, Hanabi took off her apron, biting her lip as she finally acknowledged the glaring question inside the room.

"What will happen to you?"

Kaze gulped.

Aohei had made a clear point in his earlier statement. It was only reasonable for the students to settle their decisions once they were finished with all the school drama. They would repeat a year, yes, but if that's what they want. . . then there's nothing Kaze could do about it.

But where does that leave her?

April will come around the corner soon, trotting faster as the hours rolled by and the days blurred by. She has to decide quickly and move quick—more so on the fact that most schools are especially strict when it comes to taking in a transferee in the Hero Program.

It will be a long and grueling process, but she can catch up. Kaze has no doubt in that.

But then again, she's from _Seigi. _The lowest of the low in the Hero Course.

Kaze doubted those schools she had mentally listed earlier would accept her with a background in Seigi.

_'I have to try,' _she thinned her lips. _'UA shouldn't be my first choice. I have to try and look.'_

Nodding to herself, Kaze turned to announce her decision, though her speech was halted when an exhausted Kouyou came striding into the kitchen, scratching his tousled locks with a confused scowl on his face.

"Hey," he scrunched his nose. "Why did Hisae made Haru call UA?"

Kaze scrambled out of the kitchen.

* * *

A stream of light flowed inside the dark room, silent as the dead of the night as hesitant footsteps sauntered in; cautious yet calm, the recent news he had heard just a while ago weighing the very purpose of his presence here.

Empty.

The bed on one corner was empty, and the desk next to it remained untouched; cans of pencils mixed with colorful pens with short stacks of textbooks dejectedly arranged over the surface. However, there was a new addition amongst the mess. There, right on the middle on top of a mathematical book, was an open manila folder.

Blue eyes gazed down with interest.

He picked up one file.

"Welcome back."

Unsurprised, Takumi looked over his shoulder, looking none too guilty with his halfhearted smirk despite being caught snooping in her room.

"Tadaima," tilting his head, the boy—man, now—gave a small grin, waving the file in his hand as he turned on his spot; opting to face his adopted sister, who was perched on the sill of her window above her bed, properly.

"I hear you brought big news," he joked. "Again."

"Ah," shrugging one shoulder, Kaze pushed a hand through her hair, taming the windswept strands before hopping into her room, the wind guiding the soles of her naked feet for a gentle landing. She chose to ignore the mild implication in the ginger's tone as she went towards the folder, slipping her hands beneath one end to flip it closed, hiding the black-inked words before her eyes and mind.

Not that it mattered much.

"How was the assignment?" Tipping her head with her query, Kaze turned to face the ginger, eyes angled up to adjust to the latter's towering height and broad shoulders. Much to her chagrin.

It was almost ridiculous how Takumi had grown over the past years. Lean and firm—a sharp jaw, a narrow nose, and his head of burnt orange hair longer than before. However, looking at him now, with the sly shadows playing on his face due to the pesky strands falling above his lashes, Kaze knew that the hollowed look will never quite change.

"Good. Kinda messy, but good." Allowing himself to sit on her bed, Takumi popped the top button to his dress shirt with a sigh, setting his elbows on his knees with a weary, bowed head. A vulnerable sight only his family could ever witness.

Empathizing with his predicament, Kaze plopped down next to him with a concealed smile. "Is life getting hectic in the Police Force?"

"Shut up," Takumi snorted, nudging the girl with his shoulder in jest. "I'm not the one who's appealing to schools right now so, you're the one with the hectic life at the moment."

Kaze chuckled in response, not even trying to deny the deadpan summary to her situation.

Eleven days.

Eleven days since she had that talk with her principal.

And in eleven days, she had approached six schools and got _turned down._

Of course, Kaze knew that her company was aware of that already. Nothing stays hidden within this family.

Takumi, on his part, had gone to a lengthy assignment on the day she had gone to Seigi Academy for the last time; assigned on a brief team mission with his fellow police officers at the Kanagawa prefecture requested by his higher-ups. Thus, he was the last one to know about this—found out just this evening in fact, when he had arrived from his duty. Hanabi had been the one to relay the news to him, her words thorough with no detail left unsaid. By the end of it all, he was shocked. Staggered with dumbfounded astonishment.

It goes without saying as to why he didn't hesitate to seek Kaze as soon as possible.

"So," steering the conversation into his desired topic, Takumi held up the file with one hand, the stream of light catching the bold heading of the letter followed by the name of his adopted sister. "Why not UA?"

"Why UA?" Defensive, Kaze pulled her feet up in a lotus position.

"Because they're clearly interested," Takumi frowned, perplexed. "Tell me you're at least considering it."

Her lack of answer confirmed all he needed to know.

_'So that's how it is,' _smothering the growing smile daring to ruin the fragile atmosphere, Takumi shook his head to himself.

In contrary to popular belief, it was never difficult to handle Uchiki Kaze. Understanding her? Piece of cake. Solving her?

No problem.

"Are you scared? Or are you just hesitating because you failed once?"

Kaze recoiled at his words, squarely giving the ginger a look of offense at the insinuation.

"No."

Checkmate.

A wry grin plastered itself on his face. For all those years they've spent growing up with each other, Takumi knew how to read the girl just as much as he could with the twins. That gleam of desire in her eyes? It was about as subtle as the sun was in the sky, albeit subdued and swallowed down as she absentmindedly stared at the paper in his hand. The way she had chosen to ignore the topic? That was a stubborn belief on a higher priority. And Takumi just knew what that priority was for her.

In contrary to popular belief, the right buttons needed to _push _were easily recognizable.

"Then show me," standing up, he handed the girl back her file with a knowing smile. "You can't use us as your excuse all the time, you know? _I'm _here to look after everyone too, don't underestimate me. Besides, those kids in UA?"

Kaze met his gaze with puckered brows.

It was a cruel trick—manipulating her like this, yet Takumi took brotherly glee in seeing her squirm at his teasing.

"They're probably stronger than you. Now, what do you have to say against that?"

* * *

She was stupid. Naive.

A dunce.

A complete and utter dunderhead.

And she couldn't agree more.

"Hurry up, Haru." Clicking her tongue in irritation, Kaze ground her teeth in an effort to release her tension, her scowl fierce and daunting as they walked down the road towards their destination in quick strides.

A finger twitched as they turned a corner. '_Damn you, Takumi.' _

"Calm down, sheesh. And how come you're only bugging me? There's Kouyou!"

"That's because you're lagging behind."

"Shut up!"

Sighing through her nose, Kaze mentally tried coaxing herself to calm down as she shoved shoulders with the two (Haru mostly) just to stop them from possibly wringing each other's necks, mutely scratching her cheek at her thinning patience.

Why she had to have both as her chaperone, she didn't know, but there they are.

Heading towards UA out of all places.

Kaze decided to shift the blame on Takumi—Hisae too—just for closure's sake. And for the benefit of her wounded pride.

Pale fists clenched and held. He knew. Takumi knew she wouldn't be able to resist the second after he voiced his thoughts. She knew she had been played. She knew that he had pointedly (sadistically, relentlessly) targeted her inhibitions without fail. _She knew._

Yet here she was anyway.

The journey to UA took nearly three hours—from having to wake up at an ungodly hour (as per Haru's words) before they took a bus ride to head to the nearest train station. There, Kaze had the chance to unwind her thoughts; forcibly curbing the knot in her stomach and attempting to swallow the rock lodged in her throat. The ride itself was almost two hours—an hour and fifty-five minutes, to be exact—before they arrived at Musutafu City. Kaze had gently shaken the two snoozing on each of her shoulders awake so they could get going, inwardly savoring the unconscious comfort they have given in turn. Even if their combined weight of them leaning on her either side were less than comfortable.

It was worth it.

But now, after another bus ride and a stroll, she and the twins finally reached the school.

Kaze paused.

The sight was just as breathtaking as it was the first time.

Next to her, Haru let out a low whistle at the vision of the gargantuan institution, grey eyes drinking in its crystal grandeur with a hanging jaw.

"Wow."

"You got that right."

Kaze wholeheartedly agreed. Despite her adamant reluctance, there was just something about UA that ensured a promise; its imposing height evoking a shiver of both anticipation and courage at the same time, concluding with a tingling sensation down her skin that made her feel. . . invisible.

An uncanny feeling, in a dreamlike state.

A year ago, Kaze recalled her younger self standing before the very spot she was on; wide-eyed and flushed cheeks with an erratically drumming heart as other hopeful enrollees brushed past her shoulders.

But she also recalled the imprint of defeat when she failed, hiding the sting of salty tears down her cold cheeks as she walked with her head down low.

The memory seemed so fresh that it almost made Kaze step back.

As much as she didn't want to be apart from her family, she didn't want to be rejected by this school again. She could take it from the others—there was always more. But UA?

It was a humiliation unlike any other.

"It's Sunday," Kouyou thoughtfully hummed as he scanned the front of the school from their position before the gate, fingers subconsciously tugging on his lone helix piercing of a beaded ring on his left earlobe. "I can't believe these people are working on a Sunday."

"It's a school full of heroes," Haru shrugged, as if that in itself solved the distorted logic.

Kaze knitted her brows, but said nothing to contribute. Together, the three of them stood staring at the gates of the school with mixed emotions grilling in their stomachs. Kouyou, for one, couldn't comprehend how a structure made of thick glass and an incomprehensible land area could even be called a school. Seigi seemed like a domesticated kitten compared to this king lion of a school.

"You have to go to this school, Kaze."

At Haru's mumble, both Kaze and Kouyou set their gaze on his profile.

Heaving in a large breath, Haru anxiously jammed his hands in his pockets. "Look, I'm sorry for calling UA that day when Hisae told me. I didn't know you were against it but," glancing at the girl in mind, grey eyes gleamed in silver beneath the sunlight. "It's good for you."

Indifferent, Kaze merely slid her gaze forward. "We're not even sure if I'll pass yet."

"Bullshit," he rolled his eyes with a scoff. "You're better than before. It wasn't your fault when you faile—"

"It was."

"Let me finish, you ingrate!"

At his slight, Kaze let loose a semi-cheeky grin, unaffected towards Haru's intimidating factor. He was always quick to irritate, but also quick to calm.

"I'm saying this is for your own good!"

"Sure."

"Aneue wants the best for you too, you know! Hisae and aniki too."

"Sure."

"Not to mention, Jii-chan will be so proud of you! Not that he isn't already, but you know what I mean."

"Sure."

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTE—"

"What Haru means," sighing, Kouyou easily tugged his younger twin away from a smirking Kaze, less he popped a vein in his temper. "Is that you do your best. Right?"

A pointed look towards Haru made the latter step back with a pout. "Yeah."

"Good," with a roll of his eyes, Kouyou gulped down another sigh. He was doing it was too much whenever he's with his other half, and it wasn't healthy. However, it wasn't to say that Haru's words went pointless. He just wanted to encourage his sister, that's all. Kouyou understood that as much. They _all _wanted to support her, as much as she went against it all.

Even now, despite the obvious light in her face, Kaze wanted to back away.

And there goes another sigh.

Sometimes, Kouyou wished he was Takumi. Or more like Takumi, that is. Sometimes. The way he could easily read Kaze was a talent all by itself, and making her agree to this? That was a miracle. Even Hanabi had been unsuccessful, and while Hisae was irrevocably spoiled by Kaze, the eight-year-old failed too.

But that was their opinion. On the other hand, Kouyou shared the same thoughts with his grandfather.

"I agree with you on this."

Kaze snapped her gaze toward his in shock.

Raising a hand to cut off Haru's words before they even spilled past his lips, Kouyou continued, determined to make his case.

He can't persuade her like Takumi can. He's always been the go-with-the-flow kind of a guy, but for this matter, Kouyou would have to disagree with his siblings.

"You don't really have to. . . you know." He lamely gestured towards the school. "You can get into any school you like, I know you can. It doesn't have to be UA if you don't want to. You don't want to be separated from us? All right, I can respect that, and I also understand why. I. . . don't want you to go too, you know." Kouyou dropped his gaze, shoulders sagging as he felt another sigh build deep inside his chest.

He really should stop.

"But then again," he smiled, sad and forlorn. Defeated. "This is _UA_. It's like choosing a rock instead of a diamond if you disregard this so, I'm just saying to keep an open mind."

Kouyou gestured to himself and Haru. "We'll be fine, but you won't be."

Like a drop of a pebble within a still lake, Kaze felt the anxiety inside her wade a little. Calming from a deep churning to a bubbling huff.

Kouyou doesn't want her to regret later on.

Regret.

She hadn't even thought of that.

With her perspective tilted, Kaze returned her gaze back on the towering school, still uneasy as she was this morning, but contemplative.

Against herself, she knew that Kouyou had a point. As annoying as that could be, she knew he was right.

She doesn't want to regret. It's a nasty emotion.

Just then, Kaze caught the sight of a figure stepping out of the entrance, walking towards her and the twins with sashaying hips.

_'Wait by the entrance when you reached the school,' _Kaze recited the words from UA's letter as she stood unflinching. _'We'll know you're there. But since you can't enter without an official ID, nor do you have an entry card, someone will retrieve you from the entrance. Good luck.'_

Squaring her shoulders, Kaze stood on her full height.

"We'll go now." Kouyou mumbled.

"Yeah," Haru muttered in agreement. "We'll be waiting somewhere, just tell us when you're done and we'll come to get you."

Nodding, Kaze spared her brothers a stiff smile. "Thanks."

Kouyou ruffled her hair with a chuckle, whispering his good luck to her before he began walking away, quickly followed by Haru after he had dropped a spontaneous hug.

"Whatever you decide, I'll stand by it."

Kaze froze, stunned.

Easing her shock with a grin, she resorted with fondly pushing the ginger away as he laughed.

"Go bother Kouyou for me."

"Will do!"

That was an easy mission for him.

Shaking his head, Kaze watched as the two walked away, no doubt looking for a place to eat while waiting for her.

In just under five seconds, she was on her own.

"Uchiki Kaze, is it?"

Mentally shaking herself out of her thoughts, Kaze turned at her name, wiping away the last traces of her smile and pinning a neutral facade on her person.

"Yes, that's me."

The one who was sent to pick her up was a woman with a feral edge to her coquettish grin. A heroine of erotic beauty, it seems, made irresistible with the exquisite attire shaping all of the woman's voluptuous curves in utmost precision. An impeccable picture of sensuality in all of its right.

It was a daunting image, one that had Kaze masking her demure blush. She had no idea who this woman was, yet the icy blue of her eyes was enough for her to straighten her spine. Alert yet wary.

"I'm Kayama Nemuri, or better known as Midnight." The woman cocked her hips, slender fingers brushing the ends of her wine-colored hair in teasing strokes. "I'll be the one to bring you to the principal's office."

"So I've been told," eyeing the woman with a sliver of doubt, Kaze nodded to herself and made to step forward.

"Shall we, Nemuri?"

In an instant, the woman's grin faltered.

"What did you just call me?"

_'Ah, this again.' _Puffing out air through her nose to quell her exasperation, Kaze gave the woman a perplexed look.

"I called you by your name, unless you forgot what it is."

Technically speaking, Kaze knew she should reign in her lashing tongue sometimes. After all, she got turned down by six schools in eleven days because of it.

Hanabi did tell her to be respectful.

Kaze will bet all of her allowance that this woman would make a fuss about respecting your elders and calling them by their rightful titles or something like that.

"Straightforward. I like you already, kid!"

Or maybe not.

Mildly taken aback, Kaze barely reacted when the heroine suddenly ruffled her hair, an extra pressure on the latter's palm that dug her skull.

She winced.

It seems like the woman wasn't as unperturbed as she's shown. The small pain was obviously a warning, one which Kaze noted as she stepped back to brush back her hair with a frown.

She huffed. Kayama Nemuri would just have to show her that she _should_ be respected then.

Until then, Kaze would regard her with the same level of neutrality she has to anyone.

"Now," Nemuri began leading her inside. "Follow me."

Silently, Kaze followed. They got in, breezing past the flight of stairs and zigzagging hallways in companionable silence, nothing but the clucks of the heroine's heeled boots echoing within the empty space.

Idly, Kaze mused that the Entrance Examination for the next batch of freshmen should be over by now. The faculty must be hunched in paperwork to grade the people who went through the exams. The results for the practical test would no doubt consume most of their time, but the written part was also equally tricky. She would know.

She failed that too, by one point.

"We're here."

Stopping before a doorway with an iron plaque— with the words 'PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE' boldly engraved—Nemuri didn't hesitate in sliding it open.

Narrowed, blue eyes shifted towards her with a side of interest. "Let's go."

Kaze inhaled, long and hefty, before releasing it with all her remaining tension.

From here on out, she'll have to maintain an essence of calm.

_'Just go along. Do the interview, do the exam,' _steeling her nerves, Kaze made to enter after Nemuri's back, briefly tugging on her blue flannel over her white fitted shirt in an attempt to appear proper. _'It doesn't matter if I failed this time, it doesn't have to be UA.'_

"Welcome! I'm glad that you made it in time!"

Without waiting for her reply, the principal of UA hopped off his seat behind the desk, a pitter-patter of soft footfalls replacing Nemuri's demanding clucks of her heels.

. . . It was almost _too_ soft, in fact.

Confused, Kaze shifted from standing behind the heroine to the latter's side, dark eyes gliding up just in time for the creature to appear in front of her, white paws gesturing towards the couch in the middle of the room where a small square table held a piping pot of tea and cups.

A mouse. The principal was a mouse—a mouse, a dog, and a bear _in one. _

Kaze blinked, subtly eyeing the scar stretching over the creature's right eye. _'Are all school principals animal?'_

"My name is Nedzu, UA's principal. I must say, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." The creature beamed up at her, black eyes squinting with his smile.

"Likewise." Offering her hand to shake, a small smile lifted the corners of her lips when the principal accepted. He has adorably soft paws.

She would definitely have to mention that someday.

"Well," Nedzu waved an inviting paw towards the two sets of couches along with the tea-holding table. "Shall we begin?"

Kaze nodded, directing her feet to follow said instructions when she halted.

Every single muscle beneath her skin froze at the sight of a man reclining on a couch.

She hadn't noticed him when she entered.

_Why did she not notice?!_

The man himself looked far from bold and striking in appearance like Nemuri was, nor was he a unique combination of various mammals like the principal. In all actuality, with the way he was sitting with his spine bowed to the point of sleep—he was far from the word _picturesque_.

Yet the smothering black attire coupled with the roll of alloys wrapped around his shoulders like an overused scarf—it was more than enough reason for her to stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

Wide cherry eyes devoured in the sight of a hero she didn't know she would ever see again. Five years have come and gone, and yet she still remembered every bit of detail like it happened yesterday.

She could never forget that tangled mess of straw, black hair.

She could never forget that scarf.

She could never forget _him._

With a blink, Kaze felt like she was ten all over again, crying and wailing and smearing her tears all over his shirt as he held her. _Saved _her.

He was here all along.

"I'm Aizawa Shouta," the man drawled as he stood, his dark gaze fixed on hers alone as he offered a pale hand for her to shake.

With Kaze shakily placing her small hand in his, he didn't even wait until she was seated on the couch across from his when he continued.

"You're Uchiki Kaze of Seigi Academy, recommended by your principal, Tanaka Daichi, to attend UA for your second year of high school."

It was pathetic how Kaze had never felt so meek in all of her life as she was now, her skin pale and pasty as the words fell from his mouth.

"Today, I'll be personally evaluating you and your overall skills along with Midnight. Now, just to warn you—" releasing a hefty sigh, Aizawa Shouta met the girl's red-hued gaze with a heavy shadow of utmost scrutiny. "—I don't like disappointments."

Curling her fingers into fists, Kaze recalled her family's actions from the past, few weeks— from Haru, Hisae and Hanabi's adamant pushes, Takumi's gentle probing, up to Aohei and Kouyou's accepting hands.

She had always wanted to be there for them.

And they've always wanted to do the same for her.

_'Looks like they're getting what they wanted.'_

With a dry smirk, Kaze stared into the eyes of Eraserhead with all the ounce of confidence within her—and made her decision.

"I won't disappoint."

* * *

_***Kouchou - principal; suffix for principal**_

_***Seigi - means "justice" in an idealistic sense**_

_***Tadaima - "I'm home"**_

_***Dono - suffix for "lord" or "master", or generally towards someone the speaker regards with high respect, but that doesn't conclude that the speaker is beneath them. It's very different from "sama", since it places the speaker in a lower status compared to the addressee, like worshipping. However, "dono" is a very old-fashioned suffix.**_

_***Ojii-chan/jii-chan - grandfather/grandpa**_

_***Kanagawa Prefecture - It's a real prefecture in Japan just south of Tokyo**_

**Everyone's current age (to avoid confusion):  
**

**Kaze, Haru & Kouyou: 16  
Takumi: 20  
Hanabi: 24  
Hisae: 8**


	6. Divide

**a/n: how are you guys taking season 4 so far? that arc birthed a lot of Kirishima stans of today XD**

**Also, DOUBLE UPDATE! Simply because this chapter was too long to be in one. I mean, reading 22k in one seating is kinda troublesome. Not for me, but I am concerned about my readers' comfort :) **

* * *

**"You're family, Uchiki Kaze. You carry our name since you've been with my grandchildren."**

* * *

_She didn't trust him. _

_Not one bit. _

_He was too friendly_—_far too friendly. _

_T__he kind that felt too careful and too suffocating; the kind whose__ smile was etched onto his face in a gentle yet fabricated curve, the intent in his eyes hidden by the gleam of his glasses. _

_He simply too statuesque that it seemed unreal. _

_She didn't like it. She _doesn't_ like it._

_Stubbornly jutting out her chin with her thoughts, the girl expressed her dislike with a deep frown, fists balled on her side as she stood before her parents sitting on the couch. _

_"I don't want to." She said, determined._

_But her mother was getting impatient, the proof solidified with the curt sigh between the woman's lips. Beside the latter, the girl's father sat as he usually would: shoulders sag and posture unrestrained, yet there was a minuscule difference in the way he held himself in. Lax, yet guarded. At eased, yet grim. Worried, but not for her. _

_"You have to, sweetie." _

_The girl nearly faltered, yet managed to hold herself together by the seams. __She doesn't understand._

_She doesn't understand them. _

_She doesn't understand. . . _this.

_Why._

_Eating back her huff, the four-year-old threw a shrewd glance to her left, where by the corner, a man with hair the shade of walnut stood calm; the dark locks slicked back with a few rogue strands flopping against his forehead. His smile was still as friendly as she had observed before and she pursed her lips at the way the light reflected off his round glasses yet again. _

_Like the glow of the moon hiding its shaded areas. _

Why can't they see what she was seeing?

_The girl frowned to herself, setting her gaze back to her parents with a pleading look. She didn't want to work with the man. Didn't her father say not to associate herself with strangers? Well, this man was a complete stranger_—_a__nd he was here to help restrain her quirk! Admittedly, the word 'restrain' was foreign to her young mind and she had made that known with an owlish cock of her head earlier._

_Her mother said it meant control. __Put under wraps. _

_Order. _

_Her shoulders had jumped then and her opinion was made solid._

_She would _not _allow that._

_"But King said that the wind can't be controlled, that I need to just go with it because you can never bottle it. If I become one with the wind, it won't harm me!" She spread her arms, desperate. "King is teaching me enough, I don't need_ _him!_"

_Yet her mother doesn't understand still. She never tried to._

_And she never will._

_Ever since the day the girl had first blew a dust-filled mushroom in the backyard for rocketing up in the air and nearly bulldozing through a neighbor's house due to a mere sneeze_—_her mother had gone from being her greatest supporter, to being the most stifling discouragement._

_It was tiring, accidentally becoming everything her mother was against of and the very being her father fears. _

_What was wrong with the wind?_

_She doesn't understand._

_A flinch was all her mother responded to her statement, and there was a dim in her father's gaze. As if whatever string of hope he had vanished before his very eyes_—_and he fully expected it._

_The girl swallowed her guilt. _

_"Mama," she said, twisting the hem of her shirt as she shifted on her feet before them. "I don't_—_I don't want to. . . s-stop. . . the wind. It's my friend."_

_Aghast, her mother reeled back, eyes wide with an emotion too heavy for the girl to decipher. Carefully, the woman bit on her lip, willing herself not to say it because_—_as much as her daughter believes the opposite_—_she only want the best for her little girl's safety. Her quirk was a hinder to that. __It was too reckless, too whimsical. Too dangerous._

_Too much for a child._

_Yet the words came spilling out anyways. _

_"A quirk isn't a friend."_

_The girl withered, and the woman had to steel herself for hurting her daughter like that._

_But there was no taking it back._

_It was always that word. _

_Quirk._

_'Quirk' here, 'quirk' that_—_it was repetitive and deafening, circling around her carefree world as if it summarized the very root of her life. But the girl understood it quite enough. _

_Everyone said her quirk was too risky despite all her playful intentions. Too much chaotic consequences and casualties in its wake to be considered healthy. But it will always fall as that. _

_A Quirk._

_But then on the other hand, King referred to what she has in a different manner._

_He said it was a gift._

_Ever since then, the girl preferred that more than the bland label society had randomly declared. 'Gift' made it special; made it certain, specific_—_and __she trusts King. She trusts the figure she sees in her dreams more than she does the wind, finding comfort in the smoothness of his aqua scales and the warmth in his golden eyes. No matter how gigantic he seems to be._

_He was her friend. _

_And now, her parents wanted this. . . this _stranger _to_—_what's the word again?_—restrain_ her quirk from now on. _

_What if she stopped seeing King because of it?_

_She would lose her only_ _friend._

_"Maybe not," she stomped her feet. "But King _is_ my friend! I don't want to do this!"_

_That was the last straw. _

_In a flurry of red emotions, her mother stood back, nose flaring and glare ever so piercing. Her father followed with a softer look, yet the disappointment in his eyes was palpable._

_"You listen to your parents, young lady! We know what's best for you and that's that! From now on, this nonsense has to stop, do you hear me?! There's no such thing as KING!"_

_The gravity behind her mother's anger shattered her bravado and she cowered. _

_An answer, however, was something she did not provide._

_She was wrong. _

_Her mother was wrong. _

_Wrong. . ._

•

•

•

**PROFILE SHEET**

Name: **_UCHIKI KAZE_**

Age: **_16_**

Sex:**_ F_**

D.O.B: **_FEBRUARY 3_**

Height: **_167 cm [5"5]_**

Weight: **_121 lbs [55 kg]_**

Address: **_UTSUNOMIYA CITY, TOCHIGI_**

Quirk: **_WIND CALL_**

—

**INITIAL STATISTICS**

Power: **4_/5 [B]_**

Speed: **_6/5 [S]_**

Technique: **_5/5 [A]_**

Intelligence: **_4/5 [B]_**

Cooperativeness: NA

—

Final Remark:

**P A S S**

* * *

**RELEASING** yet another exhale that belittled his exhaustion, Aizawa Shouta ran a pale hand down his face, contemplating whether or not he could lay his head on his desk for a minute, relish in the coolness of his table's surface against his cheek and just close his eyes.

Sleep would definitely feel nice.

But not now.

Coal dark gaze lowered back onto the lit screen, drinking in the paragraph of the remarks for the evaluation results made by he himself. As proctor and analyzer. A job he would definitely prefer to be someone else's right now.

A random rhythm began as one thin finger tapped thoughtfully against his desk, then he started again.

**The examiner proved to be extremely light on her feet—**

He clicked his tongue, the letters blinking off the screen in rapid succession before his deft fingers proceeded to redo his words.

**The examiner possesses quick reaction time; has strategically made her quirk to be in line with her movements, or her movements in line with her quirk. Evidently, the examiner has done great contemplation as to how to manipulate her quirk to do numerous things, a clear representative of a creative mind. **

**However, the examiner focuses too much on subtlety—**

_'Not quite.'_ Again, Aizawa slammed a finger onto the delete button, his free hand burying into his hair to grip the back of his neck.

He frowned.

Saying that the girl focuses too much on subtlety would be imprecise, simply because she could most certainly perform boisterous attacks. The setting just demanded for a more discreet approach. However, there was. . . _something. _The tiniest creak to the joints of her maneuvers. A flaw. Everyone has a flaw.

What to call it?

Stuck, frustration made Aizawa push his tongue against his teeth, holding in the irked sigh that flared his nostrils when words failed him. A description was all he needed to build his report, and yet he couldn't. Couldn't finish it, that is. Usually, this job would've been a breeze on the shoulders. Troublesome, but simple. He should've been done now.

But distraction was a fickle thing.

He doesn't do well with distractions.

Aizawa raked his gaze all over the string of black-inked letters strewn together in one organized block.

He lingered on her name.

"So, she did pass."

Hand stilling from ruffling the strands of his hair, Aizawa set his gaze to the side, arching one questioning brow towards his colleague.

"All Might." He grunted. "What do you want?"

In response to his disgruntled greeting, the natural welcoming smile on All Might's face twitched. A normal occurrence whenever an interaction with the only Aizawa Shouta ensues.

"Rumor has it that the young girl passed," excused the retired hero with a short chuckle, the lines on his face easing with his expression. "I was just confirming the news from the source. Everyone has their curiosity piqued, you know."

Aizawa blinked, the yearn for sleep receding as he recalled the mild chatter that had, indeed, taken over the faculty room when Nedzu had announced the especially peculiar news last Tuesday.

A transferee.

Leaning back on his chair, lithe arms crossed over his chest in thought, his contemplating frown hidden behind the coil of his scarf around his neck. "I suppose."

A transferee was something Aizawa thought UA has long given up accepting a long time ago, based purely upon the history of its examiners. There was none in his era as a student, and while All Might may have recalled once in his time in UA, there was little detail about it since it happened after the hero's graduation.

That was the one and only, as far as everyone knows.

And yet here they are—evaluating another one.

"So how did the young girl do?" All Might continued, one hand musing his mess of buttery yellow hair in mild wonder. Cerulean eyes followed the line of texts making the last paragraph of Aizawa's unfinished report in interest, having been aware—as did all of the teachers, really—that the dark hero was one of the two evaluators of the transferee.

Staring back at the screen now (making his eyes itch in return), Aizawa grumbled a low mutter beneath his breath.

He really doesn't get paid enough for this.

"Good," was an understatement, yet the correct compliment couldn't come to him yet. "Unexpectedly good."

All Might gave a nod, his grin curling into a somber line. "So I've heard. Midnight said so too, she hasn't stopped talking about the girl since the exam."

"I assume so. Two pro-heroes against one kid who had no idea both her written and practical exam was after her interview." He sighed, uncrossing his arms to level one hand over his mouse. Eyeing the taller hero at the corner of his eye, Aizawa minimized his still unfinished report to view the open video file beneath, showing the familiar landscape of Ground Gamma in the midst of one blurry scene. Confusing for All Might, no doubt, but after the numerous replays Aizawa had drowned himself in, he knew very well about this part of the footage.

_Especially_ this part.

Now, Aizawa Shouta deemed himself as a man who was rarely stricken with shock, keeping his mind clear for any possibilities and probabilities whilst maintaining exceedingly high expectations out from an individual. The kind he knew UA strives for and the kind he knew what separates this school from others. As what should be.

But at times, he looked forward to being proven wrong even though he wouldn't verbally admit it. It showed promise, and a promising potential should never be put to waste.

But this. . . this _girl_ took this exam through recommendation—a lousy recommendation at that too—and flipped all the rules at his face.

Maybe it was shock, aside from the distraction itself, but this was certainly unexpected.

Aizawa had long since proven himself to be well-rounded. Then fifteen minutes with this girl and he found himself facing another who possessed a strategic mind he recognized to be similar to his, and yet not. In fact, she had taken quite a while when put against Midnight, yet when she was pitted against him—Aizawa noticed the girl falter. An almost unnoticeable quiver in her movements.

Ridiculous.

He had kept his disapproval from showing in his features when that happened, but just barely. The professional hero in him wanted to halt the exam right then and there and send the girl home, but the teacher in him was patient. Always was—always looking at the goal at the end of the road.

So for that, he waited.

His patience was rewarded when she got over her fumbling, and it was also when the shock frizzled Aizawa.

His flow—his overall movement had seemed _choreographed_ to her. Every offense he spurred she had successfully countered, and every defense he put up were continuously stuttered.

It had taken a while until he finally deduced that she had his style engraved in her memory.

Peculiar. Unsurprising, but peculiar.

Aizawa hummed.

Eraserhead was respected and admired by many, that much was certain, but rarely was he ever gushed over. His name was there on the board, acknowledged, then skimmed over—overlooked by other heroes whose names were all painted by the glittering grandeur instilled by popular media. Aizawa was satisfied with that. His job was simple and he cared little for exposure nor fame, but if someone even like Midoriya Izuku knew him (had evidently _squealed _when he found out his first year's adviser was Eraserhead) then maybe it's not as equivocal as Aizawa would like to think for this examiner to harbor the same idolism.

. . . No, maybe not at all.

Still, it didn't change the fact that he had to improvise during the exam.

"If you don't mind," Aizawa went to rewind the video back to the very beginning, intent on ridding his spontaneous block in productivity with a little teamwork. "Why don't you take some time in watching the recording. She will be learning under you too, so you might as well see her abilities for yourself. Afterwards, tell me your opinions about the transferee. Leave nothing unsaid."

Stunned, All Might debated whether or not he should say a word about Aizawa's offer. A word or two about it being an unlikely characteristic coming from a man who knows exactly what to expect, secured with his silent confidence. But there was something about the haze in Aizawa's eyes that caught All Might. A haze that was far from his usual lethargic droopiness.

"Why?"

To anyone else, the question would have seemed offensive, but Aizawa understood the tone All Might had dwelled his query with.

_'Distraction.' _He closed his eyes. "She grew up, that's why."

For a fleeting moment, the air hung with embedded tension, the confusion obvious in the frown of the renowned hero, yet Aizawa gave no explanation.

If he didn't see the need to, then he wouldn't.

All Might took a spare chair. "Let me see."

* * *

_"You should be aware, Uchiki-san, that UA hasn't accepted a transferee for years now."_

The slur of the wind hit her face in a comforting caress, teasing her cheeks with its gentle fingers and inviting tendrils of her hair to dance. With her neck craned up, everything her eyes could see she drank in—from the watercolor splashes of clouds to the vast skies and passing birds that all appeared to be dots of white from the distance.

Kaze took it all as her means of comfort.

_"Why is that?"_

Crossing her legs into a lotus position, she let her back tip slightly, wanting more of the view above despite being hidden above a puffy cloud. One, thick blanket of air kept her floating, like an invisible beanbag supporting her weight.

Her cheeks grew cold and stiff, yet it didn't faze her.

_"Anyone who wants to move to UA for their second or third year goes through their very own entrance exam based upon the amount of experience and skills they should have acquired. We at UA take those standards very seriously."_

Here, higher than even the tallest skyscraper in her city could reach, Kaze found her form of solace. Her very own peace to battle the troubles grilling her mind. A balm to her aches.

Here, she gets her chance to breathe; relax from the pressure she had long set upon her shoulders.

_"And let me guess, they could not meet the standards this school expects from them?"_

_"That you are correct. However, you have no reason to be discouraged, Uchiki-san, because you are an exception to those who have taken this examination before."_

Inhaling in the fresh air, Kaze let her eyes fall shut, relishing in the drug of lighthearted freedom that came with being so high up in the air. Unreachable and detached from earth with the wispy clouds slipping between her fingers and the sound of avian coos being her music.

_"Are you saying—"_

"Second-year student, Uchiki Kaze. . ." She began in a mumble, cracking her eyes open as she released the air within her bloated lungs. Her ears perked at the sound of her words; satisfaction thrumming in her blood at the knowledge of her progress. Not much, yet better than nothing.

_"Congratulations, Uchiki-san, you passed the entrance exam! You are now a legitimate student of UA High."_

Lips thinning in thought, Kaze replayed all the emotions that slammed her heart that day. The shock. The incomprehension. The disbelief. The anxiety.

The unbidden jump of joy.

Unfurling her legs beneath her, Kaze let her weight lean herself backwards further whilst urging the wind to support her actions until the tips of her toes were facing the heavens and her gaze was set staring down below. A view of nothing but a cluster of tiny, grey squares, twisting roads with moving dots along with a vast expanse of green beneath her. The basics of the city below.

She wouldn't be seeing this city like this anymore. Not for a long time.

A scowl marred her features at the thought, the corners of her mouth dipping as Kaze fiddled with the belt that secured her shirt from falling. Her family was surely waiting for her down there, giddy with the recent news she brought and probably still on the edge of excitement. Though grateful for their limitless support and oddly proud at her accomplishment, the unease still sat on her shoulders like granite grinding against flesh.

An irrational fear. An illogical insecurity.

She would be away from her family.

Kaze bit on her tongue, jaw tight with the emotion stifling her throat. She didn't welcome the feeling—somewhat hating it even because, try as she might deny it, she knew they were right. Yes, she acknowledged the fact they were right since the day she took her exam, and she'd be damned to deny it like a stubborn mule.

One of the heroes in charge of her progress would be the man that had changed her fate so long ago. The one who had given her and the siblings the life they deserved.

She wouldn't dare refuse the opportunity to learn under Eraserhead's tutelage.

Yet the reality of what's to come still made her stomach curl in itself. The only consolation she has would be the visiting privileges the school will be implementing this coming semester. At the end of each term, students have the choice to visit their home for a few days, or they could have limited family members visit the school on limited grounds. Of course, the practice was already instilled since last year, but it was only this year would they allow visitors into their school. The specific reason wasn't told, but Kaze understood that whatever crisis it was has already been averted.

She should be grateful.

_'That should be enough.'_ Kaze nodded to herself to reassure her own doubts. This would be good for her. Better for her. And better for her to protect them. A visit every now and then from her family should keep her sanity sated. After all, what was the use of her phone? They will be fine.

_She_ will be fine.

Quelling her nerves by forcing her courage, Kaze squared her shoulders and tip her chin. Hanabi was probably looking for her now, a reprimand ready on the latter's tongue for neglecting her packing and (Hanabi's words yet again) abusing the rights of her license by openly escaping up in the air with her quirk.

As if she hasn't been doing this prior to her passing that exam.

Kaze glanced to her side, wistfully savoring the view again despite being upside-down. She printed the sight of the sky blanketing the city below in her mind's eye, shimmered by the ray of the sun that poked through a throne of clouds. Smiling, she let her eyes close once more, then with a simple inhale, urged the wind clutching her ankles to release its hold.

And as she fell, her smile grew to a grin.

Nothing—in her years since discovering her quirk—could ever defeat the hanging feeling of being suspended high above ground; the trembling millisecond of being frozen mid-air before gravity acknowledges her presence.

And when it did, it slapped onto her like a hammer smashing a nail.

Her whooping cry startled passing birds, yet Kaze paid no mind to their squeaks as she spread her arms to her side, twisting her legs to level her body horizontally.

Diving without a parachute meant suicidal for most people.

Yet as Kaze turned herself so that she faced the blue of the sky once more, her breath hitched as she saw the planetary wind's idle movement above her. Way, _way _above her—a sight of thick and wide blankets of pale teals and greys enveloping the whole sky.

Far too high and majestic compared to the breezy ribbons that twirled low on the ground.

To anyone else, the wind would be this unseeing force. Invisible and latent, but the same could not be applied to her. To her, she could _see _it. Every tendrils and every swirl it gave—from the seemingly still but violent bulk high in the heavens and down to the shy gushes by the ground—she could see it. She could see its leisure and behavior, how a piece of it thread away from the vast blanket above to circle around her, akin to a mother monitoring its child.

To her, the wind was sublime.

Inhaling through her mouth, Kaze felt for her connection with the breeze, calling it and ushering a thread to loop around her finger, slithering in playful caresses until it cradled her torso, holding her in place in unquestionable security.

A small stutter—almost unnoticeable—from her descent was the only fair warning she got that meant she was getting closer to the ground.

With a jerky twist, Kaze flipped herself again just as a boost from the wind puffed her upwards, a yelp escaping past her lips as her stomach flipped at the change of direction.

"Yeah!"

The blow of the wind halted yet again on her demand, leaving Kaze to pause from her height—where she took in the view of her city spread out before her, the sun's generous shine glinting the place like minerals, the tallest buildings proud with its grand size.

Utsunomiya was the home of the siblings, and by extension, hers too. Years had been with spent with her joining the skies and enjoying the view no one could, and for the past months, she had the honor of helping her city; keeping the crimes at bay and ensuring the protection of the people.

For the protection of her family.

A gentle nudge from the wind and Kaze found her smile faltering. Lower and lower, she was guided down, a subconscious command on her part knowing that she shouldn't dawdle on for too long. But a part of her grew cold in disappointment. There was just this shackled feeling when she's rooted on land. But up there, one with the sky and drifting along the clouds—it was otherworldly.

In slow, dreaded seconds, Kaze felt her sock-clad toes touch soft, mushy grass as she landed on a secluded hill; the very hill she would come and go to launch herself high in the air in privacy. An old, sturdy tree stood at the base of the small hill, its trunk thick yet wobbly, and as for its leaves, Kaze felt her mood warmed at the sight of pink petals graciously bloom and dance along with the wind. Fluttering about and adding more onto the pile growing beneath its shade.

Beautiful.

"I must say, this is quite a good spot to enjoy spring." A pause. "You have good taste."

Smile lifting to a well-mannered grin, Kaze turned, uncaring towards her shoeless self, ruffled clothes and windswept hair. After all, this man had seen all what she could show; the ups and downs, the perks and burdens, and had guided her through it all. A little mess wouldn't faze him.

"Kuugo-sensei," she inclined her head out of respect. "What brings you here?"

Sakamata Kuugo, better known to the world as Gang Orca, stretched his wide lips into a fond smile, the leathery texture of his lengthy dorsal fin glimmering beneath the glare of the sun. He reached out with his claws to deftly smooth down the tangles of his intern's hair, having been accustomed to her bouts of daredevil tendencies to even bat an eye now.

"Should there be a reason?" At her grateful smile, Kuugo retracted his claws away with a satisfied grunt to himself.

Never one to beat around the bush, her mentor's gaze looked past behind her and zeroed on one of the lone tree's lower branches, where hooked on its gnarly fingers, Kaze's bag hung limply.

"I've been notified about your change in school from your principal," he began, gesturing for the girl to retrieve her bag so they could continue on their merry way. "Seigi's announcement about dropping the Hero Course is, while expected, taking up quite the storm."

Grin fading into a flat line, Kaze subconsciously mimicked her mentor's somber persona, turning on her heel to walk up towards the tree to fetch her bag. Haru had scolded her once about leaving her belongings on a tree out of all places before she pins herself up in the sky, but this place was secluded. Safe.

Hers.

"I could imagine." Kaze opened her bag, dug out her shoes before gently setting it on the ground, slinging one strap of her bag over her shoulder once it was zipped shut once again. "Daichi-kouchou had always been proud of the fact that Seigi used to be notable for its Hero Program back in the old days, and I can tell how disappointed he was when he told me. I suppose the sentiment could be shared amongst a few other people."

Kuugo hummed in agreement, shifting his gaze around to admire the gentle nature of the hill. Utsunomiya wasn't a city known for its blend with nature. There never was much, but the few found offered nothing but serenity.

He enjoyed the quiet to calm his hectic schedule.

"Did you come all this way here just to talk about that?" Kaze added, crouching down to tie the laces to her shoes.

"No," Kuugo dropped his gaze back on his intern. "My business here today focuses mostly about your internship."

Kaze froze, brows twisting into a confused scowl that her hair thankfully obscured with her head bowed.

She swallowed. "What about it?"

"No need to be anxious, Uchiki." Kuugo nearly huffed, amused. "Some arrangements just needed to be said, is all."

Arrangements.

Spine slowly straightening at the realization, Kaze quietly stood to face her mentor. Calmed yet somewhat wary still. At first glance, Kuugo made the word 'intimidating' an elementary vocabulary. He was large—a giant with features of a predator. And when garbed in his uniform, such as now, his title as a hero was the only reassurance that he wouldn't go rogue.

But Kaze knew better.

Four months of working under his wing shed a lot of understanding between the ever-stern mentor and the driven intern. Which was why Kaze knew that behind that robust glare and the tinge of amusement in the twitch of his lips—he was worried.

Because he too knew what this meant for her—what _leaving_ meant for her.

"I doubt there's much to change," Kaze pursed her lips. "You'll notify me when my services are needed, and I'll come in for the weekends whether or not there's a job to do. As per usual."

"And that will continue," he nodded at her words, "Soon." Kuugo turned to begin leading the way down. Dutifully, Kaze followed despite her confusion, aware of the fact that her mentor couldn't idle by in case of an emergency.

"What do you mean?"

"UA's schedule differs from other schools, and as such, their way of handling their students also differs," Kuugo began, eyeing the girl from the corner of his vision. "Since you would have to move into their dormitory, I assume an overall change in lifestyle would come to you once you get started there."

Kaze nodded in confirmation. She assumed just as much, Kuugo's words were just verbal reflections to her recent worries. Transferring to UA would be an opportunity of a lifetime, yes, but that also meant a complete alteration to her lifestyle, not to mention that she would compete against students who would be in par—if not stronger than her. Seigi had blinded her to be the greatest in her school, but she wouldn't be foolish enough to think that it would be the same in UA.

"I'm prepared for it." She nodded in confirmation, willing her heart to cease its anxious flutters. It hadn't stopped since the day she passed her exam and her desired effect to quell it wouldn't come. She figured it would never.

Grunting his agreement, Kuugo raised his chin as they reached the end of the hill, the nature fading as their shoes kissed concrete instead of grass. He absentmindedly thought how his intern would do good in the prestigious schooling of UA, especially since the girl have this strict opinion towards herself. Many times did he witness her toying with the line of her limits, and many times did he see her rue herself in failure, yet get up to defeat it in her own stubborn way.

An admirable trait, but dangerous. For all Kuugo knew, Uchiki Kaze has no goal to becoming the number one hero (which at the rate she was going could be deceived as a lie), nor has she ever even mentioned about reaching the top ten. However, she did share her desires to be the strongest to him—the unbidden need to ensure the utmost protection for her family being the root to her goal.

Being the strongest could be synonymous to being number one. But the gray area was big and glaring.

Kuugo hoped the girl would realize that.

"What can you say about your exam?"

Flicking her gaze towards him, Kaze huffed a single word. "Taxing."

Against himself, Kuugo released a bark of laughter. Startling a few civilians who, despite their recognition towards him, nervously shuffled out of the duo's path.

"I wouldn't expect it any other way. What did they make you do?"

"The objective was to rescue one civilian whilst obtaining criminal information," she chuckled in recollection of the exaggerated act the principal did for taking the role of a civilian. "In doing so, I fought two pro-heroes acting as villains."

"Who?"

A moment was taken before she said her answer. "Midnight and Eraserhead."

Immediately, recognition shone in Kuugo's gaze, though a fair hue of pink briefly dusted his cheeks as he mashed his lips akin to a grimace. The reaction amused Kaze enough to grace a smirk, though she couldn't phantom why.

Perhaps it was about the heroine, Midnight. Kaze was mildy ashamed to admit that she hadn't known about the woman until meeting her that day. She was sure she had heard the name in passing, but never enough to leave a lasting remark. However, after encountering Midnight in her exam, Kaze doubt that she'll ever forget the name now.

She was spunky and tricky. A perfect trouble for males.

"And how did you fair against them?" Kuugo continued, clearing his slight in composure with a clear of his throat. "I'm quite acquainted with their style in work, so I should know. Especially Midnight." He mumbled the last part so low that Kaze knew she wasn't meant to catch it.

It was nice knowing her mentor could be embarrassed from time to time as well.

Smiling her glee, Kaze pocketed her hands and straightened her spine, stealing a quick inhale when a breeze tickled her nose. Without fail, she went on a lengthy story as to how her exam went, flushing her embarrassment when she recalled how starstruck she was at the beginning that she fumbled against Eraserhead. Kuugo didn't know the history of her admiration towards the mysterious hero, but he chuckled out of fondness as she tripped over her explanation.

Otherwise, the two spent the noon relishing this day until Kuugo—until _Gang Orca _was called back to duty.

This would be the last day Uchiki Kaze would see her mentor in a long while.

* * *

"Are you sure everything's packed?"

Kaze looked up from her sitting position on her bed, elbows gently propped on her knees with her fingers twined. A brief moment dwelled until her vision focused, sharpening from her loose strings of thoughts to focus on those concerned blues of one Uchiki Hanabi.

Sweeping her eyes around her empty room, lingering in the few stray boxes heavily taped in security, Kaze tried a smile. "Yes."

Hanabi nodded, a faraway look overtaking the concern in her eyes as she leaned her shoulder against the frame of the door. Slender fingers absentmindedly gripped the skirt of her dress, pinching the fabric whilst her teeth caught on the flesh of her lower lip.

Below them, they could hear the muffled conversation of their family.

Without meaning to, Kaze stared a little while longer at her adoptive sister, a tiny jump of her lips lurching as she observed the blonde's furrowed brows. An unusual behavior, but given for today.

"Did you at least double check your belongings?" Hanabi eventually blurted. "You know how Hisae often borrows some of your stuffs and forgets to give it back."

"She can keep them, whatever they are," Kaze almost chuckled. "But to reassure you, then yes. I double checked everything."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should go through the laundry again. See if you left a shirt or two—"

"Hanabi."

"—Or maybe I should check the twins' room. Kouyou may have one of your novels. You know him. And Haru may have taken some of your tapes—"

"Hanabi."

"Or how about Takumi? Did you at least talk to him about th—"

"Hanabi!"

At the raised tone, Hanabi clamped her mouth shut with a dull _clack _of her teeth, lips pursed as her hands further twisted the skirt of her dress in part distress and part embarrassment, a meager flush of pink on her cheeks to solidify her emotions. It was a sight so rare coming from the only Uchiki Hanabi—the woman who could bring this very household down to their knees with a single look—that it had Kaze softening her exasperation into glee in a manner of seconds.

"Sorry," Hanabi bashfully chuckled, brushing away the short strands of her fringe above her lashes . "This is just—I'm only being. . . you know. . ."

Lips parting to reveal a toothy grin, Kaze went to stand, brushing away imaginary dust off her dark leggings. "Don't worry, I understand."

Another scan of her room dampened what little humor she built, the trepidation pinching her throat the more Kaze stared at the labelled boxes, her two large luggage innocently placed beside her now empty closet. The backpack sitting on her bare bed behind her was another hovering reminder. She couldn't see it, but it was there.

Today was the day.

Puffing her chest to keep her resolve, Kaze sauntered towards Hanabi, idly pulling on the string of her tan hooded sweater to mask her anxiety, though she knew her attempts were futile.

They hadn't spent years together growing up without memorizing each other's hidden tells after all.

"You'll be fine," Hanabi smiled, small and proud. The falter at the corners of her mouth were just reflections of unneeded worry. "I know you will be."

Stopping before the blonde, Kaze sluggishly inclined her head until her forehead touched the curve of Hanabi's shoulder, a quiet sigh escaping past her lips as she closed her eyes. The scent of flour and honey filled her senses, its sweet warmth seemingly wrapping around her stiffed form in a phantom embrace.

And to think there was a day once when she thought she could never reach Hanabi's shoulders.

"You will be fine?" Kaze bit on her tongue, nose wrinkling at her words now that she said it. She didn't mean to be doubtful.

With a roll of her eyes, Hanabi took a step back, placing a pale hand on her younger sister's shoulder as an encouragement to meet her gaze. "Don't worry about us. We'll manage."

Kaze went to answer, yet the words died on her tongue when a hint of color on the corner of her eye made itself known. A shift in their mellow atmosphere. At her pause, Hanabi had glanced over her shoulder to see what it was that caught Kaze's attention.

Together, the two stifled a grin.

"Hisae," Kaze called with a chuckle. Shifting a bit further away from Hanabi, she casually leaned her shoulder against her door, taking over the blonde's spot as the latter stepped aside to give space for the two. "What's wrong?"

Frozen at the end of the hall, Hisae stood with gaping mouth, eyes wide and face a shade lighter than her usual color. A hand was gripping the thick wooden banister of their staircase, knuckles white and yet, her hand gave another clench. Slowly, Hisae continued her approach, dragging her feet until she reached the two standing before the door to Kaze's room, the third on the right beside Takumi's.

Once she reached her mother's side, Hisae silently peered into Kaze's room, an action that came across as shy than anything else.

"You're ready." Hisae muttered, her voice carefully devoid of emotions. Hanabi gently ran her fingers through her daughter's hair, yet made no comment on the glassy layer blurring the child's eyes.

Kaze nodded. "I am."

At first, Hisae made no reply. Instead, she took her time to greedily take in the now bland bed tucked in one corner, the floor looking oddly naked without its trademark coffee-colored carpet covering most of its surface. The clusters she would usually see on the desk was gone—wiped clean without a speck of dust. A glance on the closet across the bed with its door carelessly left ajar made Hisae suck in her lower lip.

She refused to acknowledge the boxes and the luggage.

Stiff like rusted gears, Hisae forced a smile and nodded. "Good. That's good! Uncle Takumi went out to get a cab for you, s-so. . . you know—" her voice wobbled.

Like a crack of lightning, Kaze found herself pulling Hisae into a hug, and the latter wasted no time in throwing her thin arms around her aunt's waist. Her aunt—yet Hisae could never see Kaze as that.

It was always _Kaze-nee _from the beginning.

With the first sob coming from Hisae, quiet and almost nonexistent, Kaze found her own throat constricting with emotions. It took almost all of her self-control to stop herself from tearing herself away from the child to put back all of her things in their place, where they would remain for as long as they could. She never wanted to leave. She doesn't _want_ to leave. In the years they've started their lives, they have never separated.

Never.

"I'm going to miss you," Hisae mumbled against her sweater. Neither of them found it in themselves to care that she was soaking Kaze's sweater. "You'll call every now and then, right?"

Sharing a wistful look and a smile with Hanabi, Kaze hummed her agreement. "I will."

"And you'll always come back every time a term ends, right?"

"I will."

". . . And we can visit too, right?"

'_There's the UA geek I know.' _Suppressing yet another grin, Kaze nodded, her heart tugging as she squeezed the shorter stature of her niece. Fragile and sweet against herself.

"Of course, you can."

Immediately, Hisae pulled away with a sniff, consciously wiping beneath her nose with a finger. However, despite the obvious streaks of liquid trailing a line down her cheeks, her rosy parlor was gradually returning and the bouncy gleam in her eyes was there. Subtle and dim, but there.

Then in a complete twist of her mood, Hisae morphed her expression into a mocked glare, lips tight and scowl apparent as she pointed a finger at Kaze.

"You better do your best, Kaze-nee. I expect nothing less! Especially after I'll bragged about you in school."

Smirking, Kaze held up her pinky and made a gesture of a cross over her heart. "I swear to do my very best."

"It's an oath!"

"Of course." Dropping the act, Kaze rolled her eyes just as Hisae giggled, an adorable squint to her eyes as she beamed from ear to ear.

Glancing over her shoulders, Hisae cheekily set her hands on her hips. "Mama, we'll go to UA, right?"

Accustomed to her daughter's fawning over the school, Hanabi merely snorted. "That depends on your chores, young lady."

Kaze shook her head at Hisae's pout. With a fond smile, she didn't hesitate to ruffle the latter's hair, chuckling at the offended shriek she received.

"My, my."

Three pairs of eyes shot up at the sound of that familiar raspy chuckle, a sound so rich in youthful tenor despite the scratch of age. Kaze straightened her spine at the sight of Aohei ascending the staircase, halting just before the last step to gaze ever so adoringly at his grandchildren and great-grandchild.

Hanabi gathered her daughter to her side, returning her grandfather's smile with her own. "Do you need something, ojii-chan?"

Aohei shook his head, gripping the banister with one hand whilst he loosely held his walking cane with the other. He gestured downstairs. "I just came to tell you that Takumi is back."

As if on cue, they heard the door slam open downstairs followed by a bellow. "THE CAB'S HERE!"

'_The cab's here.'_

The simple announcement finally broke the string that held Kaze's anxiety, and in waves of crawling pinpricks down her arms, her shoulders drooped as if an anvil was haphazardly thrown onto her back, fingers unknowingly curling into fists in a measly effort to diffuse her nerves.

It was time.

She's going to UA.

UA.

'_God, I'm going to UA.'_

Inwardly shaking away the sudden weight of realization, Kaze forced herself to move—muscles straining and heart pounding so loud in her ears it became a constant ringing. She headed back into her room, refusing to gaze about the hollow space and dragging her two hulking luggage with the aid of her quirk. A gentle push from the breeze that lingered in the house (they kept the windows and the veranda open in the day). She was stiff when she came back to her spot, Aohei now joining their little huddle with a small empathetic smile playing on his lips.

Unsurprisingly, Kaze found it tiresome to return the smile.

"Kaze,"

Lifting her gaze, Kaze said nothing just as Hanabi reached forward with her hand, cupping the former's cheek in a gesture of support and comfort. Without meaning to, Kaze let her eyes flutter shut, the heat emitting from Hanabi's hand igniting her suddenly cold skin. She welcomed it, and when Hanabi caressed her thumb on the mark written on her skin, Kaze felt her determination return with a surge.

They will be fine.

_She_ will be fine.

As if feeling the emotion through the contact, Hanabi leaned forward to envelop the younger girl in an embrace, squeezing the latter's shoulders and inwardly chuckling to herself because, how had she not notice how tall Kaze was now? She'd grown far from that confused little girl following her around.

"You're all grown up now."

Before any of them had the chance to react, the sound of booming footsteps coming from the stairs seized their attention and they pulled away just as the twins' came bounding up.

Haru went first, a somber smile on his face as he made his way straight past Kaze, patting the latter on the shoulder briefly as he passed.

"We'll take the boxes."

Kaze nodded her gratitude. "Thanks."

Not a second later, Kouyou followed his younger twin, carrying a frown instead of a smile. His face was uncertain, sheepish, almost. Emphasized by the way he somewhat avoided her searching gaze.

Kaze wouldn't have that.

"What is it?"

Kouyou lifted his eyes, not even lasting a second before averting it to her side. He shrugged. "It's just going to be weird after this," he paused. "When you're gone."

His statement was already the guaranteed truth. None of them denied it and none of them pretended to know better. The days of their jumping excitement had come to a close now that the day has come, and it splintered their world knowing that their family would be halved. It doesn't matter if it was just Kaze, but the knowledge that once high school was over and done with. . .

Suddenly, two years seemed so far to finish. And even then, with her choice of profession, a regular dinner beneath their roof—complete and happy with nothing but laughter and food to share—seemed so difficult to achieve now.

Yet they remained strong for her, aware that a single trigger would feed her reluctance to leave.

Kaze blinked to herself, speechless, then gazed at her family in a newfound light. Her chest swelled from Hanabi and Aohei's pride-filled eyes and expectant stares coming from Hisae and Kouyou. Behind her, she could feel the steady presence of Haru. Silent, but there, as he always was throughout their years growing up together. But that wasn't what concerned her now.

It was the hint of melancholy slowly hovering the air that changed the course of her emotions.

She wouldn't leave seeing them lonely. She would leave seeing them smile.

"Stop being silly, Kouyou." Kaze playfully mocked, reaching out to sling one arm over the older twin's shoulders before shifting around to do the same with Haru.

She brought the two closer until their foreheads gently touched and strands of ginger blocked her sight.

She refused to acknowledge the weight in her chest.

"Thank you," she beamed when the two—in their own awkward selves—each sheepishly wrapped an arm around her waist. "For everything."

With that, Kaze led them down the stairs, clutching Hisae's hand with Hanabi chatting a mile behind. Haru carried two boxes in his grasp whilst Kouyou, being the scrawny twin, carried one. Above their heads, the two luggage floated about in courtesy of Kaze's quirk, leading the twins to argue as to why she didn't include the boxes.

"At least make yourselves useful by carrying."

"But these are heavy!"

"Hisae whines lesser than you."

"Shut up, she's not carrying anything."

"Are you implying you want your niece to carry those loads, Haru?"

". . .N-No, aneue."

Exiting the house to be greeted by the eager sun, Kaze let the grumpy twins pass first, followed by Hanabi to instruct them how to put the things into the cab. Takumi was already there, idly striking up a harmless conversation with the driver before he ended it to help his brothers load the things into the trunk.

Sighing, Kaze shook her head before she turned, meeting the oldest Uchiki of the household in the eye.

Now truthfully speaking, Kaze's relationship with Uchiki Aohei was a complicated one. She viewed him similarly as to how a subordinate would to a higher official. He was the father and a father-in-law to two heroes, the patriarch of this household as well as the lone living relative of the siblings.

He was the one who took her in as his ward.

As such, Kaze's respect towards him was immense and her loyalty unwavering. But remove their easy greetings and comfortable conversations, Kaze really didn't know how to communicate to the man properly. For almost six years she lived under his roof and he never batted an eye, even though Hisae should be his only concern as the unexpected addition to the family. For almost six years, he had flocked around treating her as he would to his grandchildren, adamant to keep her well-being before his own even though he didn't have to. And as a complete twist to her precious life, Kaze had difficulties on accepting the kind gestures.

She never knew how to thank him, except protect him as she would her siblings. But if leaving would also ease his burdens, then Kaze would be relieved.

"Uchiki-dono," Kaze started with a bow. "I know this is coming out of nowhere but, I just need to say this."

Arching a brow, Aohei gestured for her to continue with an incline of his cane, an unreadable expression replacing the natural curl of his lips.

Kaze swallowed, keeping her eyes on her feet. "I know I've never made a great effort in getting to know you much, but I will never forget the kindness you've shown me. For—" her jaw clenched. "For letting me be a part of this family. That's why, if you would let me," cherry-red eyes flickered up to meet neutral grays. "I would like to repay your kindness soon. Tenfold."

Aohei blinked, reasonably startled. Yet, a second later, understanding settled in his eyes and his smile returned, stretching his laugh lines and—no matter how many times Kaze had seen him smile like that despite his thinning hair, pruned skin and slightly, hunched back—it gave him a youthful air.

Slowly, he gripped Kaze's shoulder, urging the latter to straighten from her bow.

"Even if you feel like you owe me, I won't stop you from doing what it is you want to do. But," lips stretching into a cheeky grin, Aohei leaned forward as if sharing an ancient secret. "Just know that all debts you feel like you owe me is repaid if I can see you smile. And I mean truly smile. Content. And if I had to do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat. You don't have to be my blood for me to ignore a suffering soul." Satisfied, Aohei leaned back, dropping his hand from the girl's shoulder after a leisure pat.

"You're family, Uchiki Kaze. You carry our name since you've been with my grandchildren. No matter what, you have a home here."

Her jaw fell, and the sting behind her eyes appeared out of nowhere to swell with the beat of her heart.

She had already viewed this as her home. . . but to hear it from the man who gave it to her felt gratifying in more ways than one.

Aohei chuckled at the wide-eyed look he garnered from Kaze; a welcomed combination of pride, amusement and immense fondness gripping his old heart.

"Now," he said. "Go make us proud."

Kaze couldn't help it, nor could she deny it. Her breath hitched, heart stuttering as an overwhelming feeling struck her very soul, spreading through her veins in a rush unlike any other. And when she beamed, she had unknowingly given Aohei's wish.

She gave him the smile that can make any old spirit such as his feel younger with the naked joy she oozed.

"Thank you," she bowed again. "For everything."

Aohei chuckled, inwardly recalling his own youthful days when he was just as spirited as his grandchildren. Silently, he stayed back just as Kaze turned and jogged towards the siblings, spontaneously throwing her arms around Kouyou with a laugh that could melt snow. He grinned, inwardly wishing his wife, his son and daughter-in-law could enjoy the view with him.

Time sure flies.

With the siblings, Kaze squeezed her hug around Kouyou tighter, the flutter in her stomach growing when she felt his growing laughter around her.

"I'll call later before Hisae's bedtime." Kaze promised, pulling back as she blinked away the sting behind her eyes.

"We'll be waiting." Kouyou nodded his agreement, squeezing her one last time before his sister took his place.

Hanabi cupped her cheeks again, fingers brushing back the dark strands away from Kaze's eyes. "Please be careful."

"I will." Averting her attention away from Hanabi, Kaze went to Hisae, crouching down to kiss the latter on the crown of her head, fingers burying in those thick locks that she adored so much. The peach color had always shined beneath the sun.

"Take care of your mom for me," Kaze whispered to Hisae's ear. "And keep an eye on your uncles. You know how they are."

Rolling her eyes as if she truly understood the implications of maturity, Hisae accepted the task with an arrogant puff of her chest and whispered, "You can count on me."

"I know I can, bug. You're my hero." Straightening up, Kaze ruffled Hisae's hair for the last time, imprinting the child's flushed grin due to her compliment.

She meant it. Hisae may not realize it, but she was everyone's ray of sunshine in the midst of a storm—was, and always will be.

Turning around, Kaze steeled herself in preparation to give her goodbyes to her remaining family. Takumi was already waiting by the door of the cab with a small smile on his handsome face. When he saw Kaze approaching him next, he didn't hesitate to pull her to his chest, lean arms wrapping around her shoulders in a grip she would often give him back when they were younger—when he needed her during the darkest of his nights.

Now he was giving it to her.

As her lips curled at the sound of his heartbeat, Kaze knew that both of them were reminiscing in this very moment; the shadows of the old days when she would crawl beneath his thin covers to lay beside him, lulled to sleep by his breathing while she brought him peace with just her presence.

"I know you're sick of goodbyes by now so I'll only say this," Takumi pulled away with a teasing laugh. "Don't go sleeping in someone's else's bed who I can't beat up."

Kaze snorted at the humor, though she could hear the underlying warning (the serious implication of a very real threat coming from a very overprotective older brother) laced in his tone.

"I'm going to UA," her heart jumped in excitement. "I doubt you can take those who go there in a fight when you can barely handle me."

His grin fell. "You could've let me imagine. Besides, I'm a police."

Kaze laughed, pushing Takumi on the shoulder at the sight of his pouting (fake, fake) face. From behind him, Haru clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, patting a mocking consolation with a grave expression on his face.

"Sorry, aniki, but she's right. I have a better chance than you."

Driven by the natural instinct to always counter his twin, Kouyou called out from afar. "That's a lie!"

Haru's quick to react. "Nobody's asking you!"

Shaking her head at their behavior, Kaze approached the younger twin before an argument could escalate, suddenly mindful of the fact that the driver was waiting, patience probably dwindling by the second.

"Hey."

Focus averted from his twin, Haru faced Kaze, the irritation fading until he matched the smirk on her face, eyes softening at the look she was giving him; a look that made his normally short temper calm. He had to tuck in his chin a little to meet her gaze properly, and no matter how long it was since their height had differed from when they were kids, Haru could never get use to it. He adored being eye-to-eye with her before, though he'd rather eat a snail than admit it.

What he can admit though, was that when it comes to Kaze, his selfish side snarled the loudest. But he can chalk it up on the fact that he met her first.

On the day he saw her lying by the dumpster, all ragged and smelly, he didn't know it would come to _this. _

And he wouldn't change it for anything.

Chuckling at his own thoughts, Haru shook his head against the myriad of emotions sinking his belly. Then with a cocky grin on his lips and he sticking his nose in the air, he lifted a finger to poke the kanji on Kaze's cheek, both of them vaguely remembering the time he asked for its meaning.

"Kick some butt."

The smile on her face wavered at his poke. Not caring on the fact that her actions would probably embarrass him (the prick), Kaze snaked her arms around Haru's neck, a rumble of a choked chuckle from her throat when he yelped in alarm. Yet to her surprise, he had no problem in returning the hug, fiercely tightening his arms around her back her as he buried his face on the space between her neck and shoulder.

She kept the muffled sob she heard as their secret.

After all, Haru's somewhat selfish hogging of her attention was mutually shared. He was the first person in her life. And she would prefer it if he would stay in her life always.

Pulling away, Kaze cleared her throat as another lurch of her stomach began. She has to leave now or else she wouldn't be able to.

"Don't miss me too much," Kaze shuffled next to the door behind the passenger's side, preparing to get in when she paused one last time.

One last time.

One last time, Kaze savored in the sight of her family—from Aohei lingering by the door, to Hanabi hugging Hisae to her side with Kouyou next to her, up to Takumi standing just behind Haru.

Closing her eyes to keep the image engraved in the forefront of her mind, Kaze got in and shut the door.

The cab sped away and even then, the family of six lingered for a while. Gripped by the drop of silence. A definite piece of a puzzle now missing—_their _piece.

Eventually, Aohei removed himself from his spot and came in. A minute later, Hanabi coaxed her daughter inside, bribed by the promise of snacks. Takumi got in when his grandfather called for his assistance, and then Kouyou, with a mindful glance to his twin, tugged Haru to follow inside.

"Let's go."

Haru paused for a second, still staring at the spot where the cab had gone. The road was empty now.

Sighing, Haru turned to get inside after his twin, passing the newest picture hanging by hall with all seven of them grinning their biggest, and he had an arm draped all over his adopted sister.

* * *

**Little trivia: all of my OCs' names have a meaning behind it, as per custom in Japanese naming. I had fun doing so too. The meaning of their names added more to their character, so I'd like to share it with you people.**

**"Uchiki"  
**\- 家(uchi): _home; family_  
\- 季(ki): _season_

**"Hanabi"  
\- **花(hana): _flower  
_\- 火(bi): _fire  
__-_ **literal meaning of the name: **_fireworks_

**"Takumi"  
**\- 拓(taku): _to __open [a path]  
_\- 海(mi): _sea_

**"Kouyou"  
\- **紅葉(kouyou): _leaves changing color; crimson leaves_

**"Haru"  
\- **春(haru): _spring_

**"Hisae"  
-**柊(hi): _Holly_  
\- 沙(sa): _sand_  
\- 恵(e): _blessings_

**"Aohei"  
\- **青(ao): _blue  
\- _兵(hei): _soldier_

**"Kaze"  
\- **風(kaze): _wind_

**:) There you go. Another fun fact was that, I was each going to name the siblings as the seasons. Hanabi was supposed to be 'Fuyu', Takumi was supposed to be 'Natsu', and Kouyou was going to be 'Aki'. But then I remembered Shouto's siblings and that they were also named after a season, so I changed it a little. Haru was the only one who remained the same from the very beginning. Japan are very big on associating meanings with their seasons, so I jumped right into the bandwagon XD sorry not sorry. Still, it was also another jab to Shouto and Kaze, seeing as both their families have names regarding weather/seasons (I'm so lame idk). **


	7. Alliance

**a/n: part two. . .**

**enjoy, fellas :)**

* * *

**"Another delinquent?!"**

* * *

_Against himself, the hesitation was palpable; stark and corded by illogical fear that clutched his limbs in unmerciful ice. It was the stereotypical battle of heart and mind, he gathered. He wanted to go—to face immeasurable heights with nothing but a smile on his face in the same way she does, but his mind argued no—that this was downright dangerous and terrifying._

_But a hero should always be brave, right? _

_How could he even aspire to be one when he can't face this?_

_"Shou-kun,"—a star twinkled—"Do you trust me?"_

_Shocked, the boy lifted his head to peer incredulously at the girl before him, watching with bated breath as rosy lips slowly curled at the corners. _

_A gentle smile. Reassuring, for him._

_His throat bobbed._

_Shouto knew he should be accustomed to her appearance, yet three months into their strange friendship and he still couldn't quite grasp how those rose-colored eyes can glimmer brighter than all the stars in the sky._

_It was hypnotic, similar to the natural embrace of his mother's voice._

_"I, uhm__—__"_

_"Do you?"_

_Fisting the sheets beneath him, Shouto dropped his gaze, cheeks splashing pink when she brought her face close to his, the tip of his nose somewhat touching hers in the lightest way possible._

_The word 'yes' got lodged in his throat._

_His answer really shouldn't be surprising. For three months, she has been coming and going through his window every night. It was a secret—_their _secret. And it felt good! Like taking a sneaking bite of the sweetest mochi in the box. It was exhilarating and pleasant despite the roller coaster in his stomach._

_Here he was, the son of the number two hero—and he's letting a girl into his room without anyone knowing._

_Because he makes her happy._

_Because _she _makes _him _happy._

_Because they're friends. His first. _

_His one and only._

_"I trust you," in a rare burst of bravado, he reached out to grasp her hand with his own. She has soft skin. "I trust you with my life!"_

_Funny how children exaggerates everything, the innocence clear in the roundness of their eyes and within the weight of their smile. But with what they were about to do, Shouto thought it appropriate. _

_He trusts her._

_Beaming, the girl gently drifted her eyes close at the answer—expectedly glad, yet unexpectedly enthralled by his ready response. With ease, he had charmed the tiny bud of doubt she had unknowingly carried._

_She was afraid he would say the opposite, y__et he didn't. _

_Out of words, she touched her forehead with his to rely her gratitude. Shouto felt the corner of his lips jump higher and his grip on her hand tightened at the affection, mimicking her movement as he leaned even closer so that he can touch his nose with hers again._

_"Thank you."_

_He had no idea why she thanked him, but it pleased him to put that delighted flush on her cheeks anyways._

_That night, Shouto let her pull him forward, her hand now grasping his with all the gentleness she could muster. His heart shivered in his ribcage as he watched her float outside his window while he was kneeling on the sill, mismatched eyes glancing down at the fall below—yet the promise of the diamond-studded sky seemed uplifting._

_Against himself, the hesitation was palpable. But she gave him courage._

_"Shou-kun," she called again when he fretted. "It's okay."_

_Gulping down his fear, he nodded. The wind on his face was cold, but the brush of his hair against his face was soothing. _

_And she, as always, looked like an angel before him._

_That night, Shouto let her guide him. And for the first time of many, he gets to touch the clouds._

•

•

•

**HEIGHTS** Alliance, Kaze decided, was far from what her mind had conjured it to look like—far from what she expected in short, really. School dormitories were not common in Japan, yet it wasn't to say it was uncommon either. She had seen enough to properly build a loose expectation once she arrived in her destination.

But of course, in the typical UA-fashion, they had outdone themselves in even designing the dormitories.

_'Plus Ultra indeed,'_ Kaze nearly whistled in her awe, greedy eyes taking in the magnificent building before her. The environment around her was a sea of green; thick, healthy shrubs and trees that sharpened the bark brown and shell-white paint of the dormitories. Each building clearly had two wings with clean cobble pathways—wide and evenly laid out to the point of utter perfection—leading to the entrance. Then added with the two light poles with round bulbs similar to those belonging to an older era, the atmosphere was a mixture of regal and rustic.

She could only imagine what it looked like at night.

"Far from what you expected?"

Mentally shaking herself out of her stupor, Kaze glanced towards the woman at her side, picking up her slack jaw with a bit of a challenge.

She cleared her throat. "Something like that."

Midnight gave a crooked grin, planting her hands on her waists with a cock of her hips, thoroughly enjoying the plain shock etched all over the Kaze's face. The latter hadn't had the opportunity to sneak a peek of the dormitories last time she was here, being cooped up in the school itself to take her written exam before going to Ground Gamma to take her practical exam, which was quite far from the dormitories.

Which was why at the moment, the two of them were standing before one of the empty dorms built for the second-year students, idly wasting time staring though neither of them found the care to complain. The things Kaze had brought with her has already been sent to her designated room by some of UA's diligent workers, joining the rest of the furniture (purchased by Aohei and Hanabi weeks ago for her)—a bed, a desk, and a lamp among other niceties—she had been told to send days earlier prior to her arrival. All of her things were just waiting to be organized. She would have preferred to fix her room immediately, but Midnight (who was waiting by the entrance when Kaze's cab slowed to a stop) had dragged her to the principal's office first to retrieve her respective uniforms along with her books for the upcoming curriculum.

With that in mind, Kaze clutched the case holding her uniform tighter, lips pursed as she forced herself to stop thinking about what happened minutes earlier. The principal, Nedzu, had been more than enthusiastic to give a brief explanation of everything she should know before class begins in a few days. The customs, the cafeteria system, grading system and just overall the general rules expected within the institution; and she stored all of his words in her mind for feature preferences.

She was new. Bluntly at the bottom of the food chain. A thought that both stirred anxious anticipation and resolve in the pit of her gut.

However, Kaze was surprised to see that she wasn't alone. Prior to entering Nedzu's office earlier, a boy with hair of wild indigo came out with a seemingly permanent, haggard look drooping his face and paling his cheeks. She saw the same stack of books tucked under one arm, and judging by the fact that the school was mostly deserted for now (excluding the teachers and staffs), that meant he was new too. Like her, sent to arrive hours earlier before the rest of the school body.

"Nemuri—"

A sharp look was given to her in an instant. "It'll be _'Kayama-sensei'_ or _'Midnight-sensei'_ coming from you from now on, Uchiki."

Kaze ignored the warning. "Around what time would the rest arrive again?"

With a blink, Midnight tilted her head in thought. "The schedule said they'll arrive by two," she glanced down at her wristwatch. "It's nearing one in the afternoon now, so you have about an hour to yourself."

One hour. Not too long for her patience. Not too soon either.

"I see," nodding, Kaze turned, gazing at the next dormitory in curiosity. That was where she had seen the boy had entered, shadowed by a teacher garbed in a stereotypical cowboy get-up topped with a thick, red cloak.

"Who was he?" She asked. "The boy with the crazy hair. Is he like me?"

Mildly surprised, Midnight followed the girl's line of sight and looked over her shoulder. They couldn't see past the fence of trees and shrubs, yet the peak of the rivaling class' home still managed to look as taunting as ever.

"That was Shinsou Hitoshi," Midnight tore away her gaze in preference to observe the girl incline her head in curiosity. "He was previously from the General Education Department, but he passed the exam that enabled him to transfer to the Hero Department. In a way, his situation is similar to yours but—" a smirk quirked her full lips when the girl met her stare. A hint of sadistic glee that belittled the aggressive excitement she held for this year's class. "—we meant what we said when UA hasn't accepted a transferee student in ages. Your situation is unique in its own way."

Midnight stifled the grin when the girl's shoulders gave a small jump. A twitch, more likely, small enough to be unnoticeable to most, but Midnight took it in with amusement.

Deciding not to tamper on that fact, Midnight readied for herself to leave. "You'll meet him again for your Joint Training exercise soon. You are aware of that, right?"

Kaze nodded. It was one of the few Nedzu had told her back in the office, the Joint Training Exercise.

"Good," Midnight shrugged, then took a step back as her signal to depart. She placed a hand on the newbie's shoulder, showing her rare side of compassion and understanding. A side reserved only to her brats.

And in an hour, her new set of brats will arrive. Aizawa's previous class as well as the transferee.

Suffice to say, Midnight has her work cut out this way.

"Good luck, Uchiki." Smiled Midnight, small yet genuin. "I look forward in teaching you. That is, if you can handle it." With a chuckle, she dropped her hand, ignoring the bewildered look she received as she turned and wave a careless hand as goodbye.

"Newbie or not, I won't show any mercy. I have high expectations from Aizawa's brats as soon as they arrive. Make sure you keep up, and that the decision of UA accepting you in isn't a mistake."

In each step she took, Midnight let the distance between them grow, leaving a cracked impression that sprung jittery somersaults inside Kaze's stomach. She watched until the woman was gone from her sight, off to do whatever it is teachers do. And yet, even with the heroine gone, her parting words remained; playing a whispering mantra in Kaze's head.

_"Make sure you keep up, and that the decision of UA accepting you in isn't a mistake_._"_

"My class. . ." Kaze gulped, gripping the case to her uniform tighter for a completely different reason than before. Her palms felt sweaty, and the nerves she harbored before from leaving her family was wiped away. Stowed in a different corner of her brain and replaced by an overwhelming unease.

Aizawa. Aizawa Shouta.

_Eraserhead_.

Her soon-to-be classmates were Eraserhead's previous class.

Glancing up at the dormitory again, Kaze stared at it with a new perspective. Gone was the awe and her gawking. This time, the big, elaborate sign of _2-A Alliance_ sparked a challenge. A challenge aimed at her.

Only time will tell the result.

But even then, the anxious pinpricks gnawed at her skin with renewed fervor.

She was far from home.

She was new.

Now, she was shoved into a lion's den.

Squaring her shoulders, Kaze briskly walked towards the double doors, throwing one door open before hurrying inside. The lobby was clean and prim—a shimmering sanitary abode that she paid no attention to as she ran up the stairs to the girls' wing (the elevator proving too slow for her agitated heart). The key to her room jiggled inside the pockets of her sweater, loud and in tandem with the _thump thump thump_ of her shoes against each stair.

The tug in her gut spurred and she pumped her legs faster.

Her room was on the fifth floor, and she was thankful that the principal had actually taken heed to her request on having a room on one of the higher levels. It had nothing to do with personal taste, really, but the wind was always stronger the higher she gets. Her skin was attuned to it—her senses heightened to its every caress and whip of its direction. There was no 'off switch' to her quirk, and for as long as she could recall, Kaze never really found the need to complain otherwise.

"Come on!"

Kaze nearly slipped as she reached her door (with a reasonable steel plaque with her name engraved onto it), the howl of the wind blocking everything as she felt the ribbony pull coming from her open window.

The tug roared in her chest.

In barely a second, Kaze toed off her shoes, throwing her case onto her bare bed in her haste and uncaring even she left her door slight ajar.

At the moment, nothing matters.

Tomorrow, she wouldn't wake up to her family's loud voices in the morning.

Tomorrow, _Eraserhead's_ old students would be her company.

Kaze pushed her window open and—with a natural twitch of her pinky finger to coax a wave of wind towards her—she jumped.

* * *

"WE'RE BACK!"

"IT'S BEEN A WHILE, EVERYONE!"

"AH! DID YOU GROW TALLER?!"

With a dull clatter, the pitter-patter of scuffling pairs of feet echoed throughout the living spaces, bouncing between the walls as excited yells and shouts took over the static noise—loud and boisterous as the students of Class A were.

Once inside, Todoroki Shouto dimly set down his duffle bag on a free couch as the rest of his peers reunited themselves in hearty hugs and noogies, their grins ever so bright that it blinded even the fluorescents of the room. Ducking his head, even he himself couldn't resist a small curve of his lips, the rock on his shoulders easing away as her familiarized himself back into his class' exuberant atmosphere.

"Everyone, please refrain from too much horseplay! We just got back!"

And of course, there was Iida.

Shouto inwardly sighed, not even surprised that their former president was back to his strict antics again. Though half of them hardly ever listen, in truth.

"Hey, Bakugo! It's been a while, yeah?"

"Not enough, shitty-hair."

Swindling his gaze aside, the spiky tuffs of Kirishima's red hair making its way towards Bakugo caught the corner of Shouto's attention, the blonde keeping himself ahead of the pack yet notably distant as always.

"How was your break?"

"Better than now."

"You don't have to be so rude, you know."

"Shut up!"

Shouto shook his head. Neither of them has changed at all.

Then again, there was hardly a change to everyone's persona during the few weeks they've spent away from each other's presence after their first school year in UA. A year that felt too loaded and mucky to be considered as a freshman's year.

"Todoroki-san, it's been a while!"

Feet shuffling aside, Shouto offered a small nod towards an approaching Yaoyorozu, who had briefly peeled herself away from Jirou's side to grace him with her polite greeting. He almost had to remind her that, after a year of spending together as seatmates and team mates (at times), she didn't really have to hold the suffix to his name.

"How was your break?" Yaoyorozu continued, hands delicately twined before her with her hair up in its usual ponytail.

"Good," he said, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. It was almost funny how she had appeared strict and solemn at the start of their first year together. Yet right now, Yaoyorozu was anything but; her grin tinted with the glow on her cheeks and the childish gleam in her eyes. "Yours?"

"Good as well. My parents just got back from their trip just in time, so that was nice."

Mildly pleased at her words (he like everyone else knew how much Yaoyorozu's parents travel a lot to remain put in their country), Shouto made to answer when he stood back, wordlessly granting Kaminari (who had been the most grateful for her study session in the past year) to steal her attention away.

"Yaomomo! It's been a while!"

Shouto quietly moved aside as Kaminari was joined by Jirou and Sero, both of which paused to offer him their casual yet hearty greeting. Once he had returned it, Shouto didn't hesitate to leave entirely to let the quartet converse as if no time had split them apart.

Spotting a free couch, he sat down, idly allowing his eyes to roam around the common room of their new dormitory in silence; gaze inspecting every nook and corner to familiarize himself with the surroundings. Not that he needed to, the plain color schemes were identical to their previous one, and the structure itself held no unique feature that set itself apart from the other dorms. Uniformed, yet comfortable enough to match any class' distinct attribute.

Leisurely sucking in a breath, Shouto released it in one soft sigh, elbows set on his knees as his shoulders finally relaxed.

Nothing had changed at all. The start of a new school year was a news that passed through him with nothing but a blink he responded to. His classmates acted the same way as they been since they've began this journey, and from the looks it, they're not going to change anytime soon—down from Mineta's perverted schemes up to Koda's timid thumb-twiddling.

Nothing has changed, and yet, everything has at the same time.

Shouto resisted from hanging his head low, conscious of the fact that everyone could see him right now. As a result, he settled on watching everyone around, content with letting their happiness wash over him like tidal waves without actively participating.

Odd as it may sound, their laughter was enough to roll away the lingering tension grabbing his shoulders. Like mint on sore throat.

"Oi, how was your break?"

The question made Shouto blink, even though he was fully aware it wasn't addressed towards him.

How was his break?

The minute he had returned home at the end of their first year in highschool, Shouto had spent it mending time with his mother at the hospital as well as putting in effort to be with his older siblings. He hardly contributed in every conversation, his answers always sparse and carefully worded, but they didn't mind. Fuyumi had been nothing but kind and gentle towards him, acting more like the maternal figure of their family as their own mother slowly recovered with an unsaid promise to return. Natsu was Natsu, and Shouto had to admit, his older brother may be brash and silly but. . .

He was cool.

A corner of his lips hitched at the thought. Shouto had never pegged himself to be the kind who would idolize their older brother like some monarch—but he does and that's that. With his siblings and mother by his side, Shouto had slowly began to ease within the corners of his own home, the undesirable memories tucked in each shadowed corner no longer haunting him as much as would have a year ago, then for a time, his routine was constant. Every day, he joined his siblings for breakfast, then on most noons, he was glued to his mother's side in the hospital—so much so that the latter often poked fun of the way he used to latch onto her as a child.

To his surprise, Shouto found himself recalling those days too without the familiar liquid fire feeding his loathing; the ache in his soul absent, hollow yet mending. He would smile then, letting his mother spoil him rotten with an embrace here and there and a tender touch to his cheek every now and then, her thumb tracing the edge of his marred skin.

Those times, Shouto had his mother to himself.

However, he wasn't selfish. Shouto very well knew that his older siblings yearned for their mother's loving hand as well, having been denied of it for years and years that even the shortest second spent was enough to brighten their entire week. So on other days, Shouto followed his brother to let Fuyumi accompany their mother and they would giggle behind their hands like coy teenagers. Then on other days, he was helping his sister in however way he can while Natsu would laze around with their mother laughing at every pathetic acting they see in her hospital room's television.

They had a system. They were healing, but on the days when Fuyumi and Natsu would visit their mother, Shouto would gently decline their invitation.

On those days, he went to visit her grave.

Admittedly, Shouto hadn't visited as soon as he thought he would once spring-break began, thus on his first visit, he had stayed for nearly half an hour in part guilt. Silence was all he could offer at first, inwardly shrinking in himself as he willed an apology, but as soon as he gathered his voice, Shouto had no qualms on sitting before the stone as he usually would and just talk.

The words just always flew out of his mouth without even him knowing whenever he was before her.

He figured it would never change.

The intervals between his visits vary, but every time he did, Shouto relayed the recent happenings about his life at home. On some times, he talked about the few highlights in his first year of highschool. Then every time he left to go back home, he'd leave his flowers then turn away without looking back.

Shouto would like to think that she was glad for him, at the very least.

"Wow, Ojiro. You sure got tanned. What were you doing?"

"Nothing, just some outdoor training, is all."

"Amazing. . .!"

Briefly letting his eyes flutter shut at the warmth in his chest, Shouto knew of the small smile that hung on his face, yet he couldn't let it go. Satisfied with his renewed relationship with his mother. Satisfied with his place back here.

Nothing has changed, yet everything has.

Including his father.

Just like that, the smile on his face fell flat.

"All right! Is everyone here?"

Jolting out of his reverie, Shouto craned his neck up as he pushed himself to his feet, hands patting away imaginary dust on his pants. He stopped short, however, when he saw who had entered their dorm and gathered their attention.

"Midnight-sensei?"

It was Ochaco who mumbled the innocent query, her head cocked with a blink of her round chocolate gaze. Midoriya mimicked her wonder with a knit of his brow next to the brunette, though he kept his confusion unsaid as he clutched the straps of his rucksack tighter.

Midnight leaned most of her weight on one leg, jutting out a hip in return with a hand to her waist that further accentuated the voluptuous curve of her thighs. The black leather flogger she carried around was deftly loose between her fingers at the moment, polished nails slyly glinting beneath the light that belittled her smile.

"Everyone," she said. "Welcome back."

He frowned. _'What's she doing here?'_

Obviously unaware of his thoughts, Midnight scanned the room with narrowed gaze, a thoughtful hum low in her throat as she tipped her chin. "Are all of you here?"

Iida stepped up, somber yet adhering to the lingering (not really) effect of his class presidency status. "Yes, Midnight-sensei." He nodded. Then with a shifting pause, he added his own confusion. "If you don't mind me asking, sensei, but what are you doing here?"

Shouto silently sent his agreement, as he was sure everyone has as well. However, with the way Midnight responded with a coy curl of her plump lips—lashes flicking rather playfully towards Iida—Shouto couldn't help but assume the answer already.

"Don't play ignorant with me, Iida-kun!" Shoulders bouncing with her giggle, Midnight flaunted her arms wide in an exaggerated gesture to her own. "For this year, I will be your homeroom teacher!"

His jaw nearly dropped.

The reaction was instantaneous: a roar of surprise taking over the class that Midnight had fully expected. Shouto knew she did just by simply gauging at the amusement obvious in her predatory grin. And for the most part, he couldn't blame his peers. Most of the boys blushed a deep and dark cherry from the roots of their hairline down to the base of their neck, face twisted as if the very apple of Eve was offered to them. Ochaco had a similar reaction painted on her expression, albeit subdued and timid, her shoulders bunched as future scenarios with their teacher swirled around her thoughts.

Though as for Kaminari and Mineta. . .

Shouto really shouldn't be surprised at the eager huff from their noses.

Otherwise, the rest had nearly stumbled in their shock.

"But—" Mina needlessly raised a hand. "—what about Aizawa-sensei?"

"Aizawa has been Class 1-A's homeroom teacher for a number of years now," said Midnight. "That's not about to change now. He's meeting the freshmen now as we speak."

Her explanation, though logical, had somewhat dampened the giddy atmosphere that has erupted the area since the loud opening of the doors—evident by the twitch in everyone's clear expression. Shouto too, could empathize. Aizawa had been this grinding mentor they never knew they needed before, doing whatever means necessary to help them all push past the boundaries of their comfort and limits. Half of his methods were harsh and seemingly heartless in his dour persona, but the way he had looked over them all without missing _one_ detail had all aided them to leap in their growth.

Shouto couldn't think of anyone else who could will him to try harder and harder with just a slight squint of a glare.

If Midnight had taken offense to their stark disappointment, she didn't show it. Instead, she shifted her stance once again, ridding the giddy façade in favor of a more solemn tone.

"Introductions are not needed between us anymore. I've been often standing as an assistant teacher during some of your Heroics class from the past year, but I will say this. My methods of teaching may be far from Aizawa's, but. . ." She paused, purposely dragging the suspense that clutched everyone's throats in a gradual choke. Then with a sweep of her icy gaze, a change happened.

A brief change, hidden in the shimmer of her eyes that all missed. However, the drug of merciless glee induced with clear warning in her tone had most of them tweaking their spine straight.

Tongue imperceptibly poking out between red lips, Midnight tilted her head, a shadow passing her eyes in warning. "Don't think I don't hold the same high expectations from _all_ of you. UA is called an elite school for a reason and I'm not about to tarnish that." She chuckled, her smile thin and deceptive. "On the other hand, I will enjoy tormenting each and everyone of you to give me a reason why I should let you finish your final year here. Aizawa has given me a lot this time, but we'll see if that stays."

Midnight punctured the end of her speech with a beam doused with all things sweet and sugary, yet the effect fell with the gravity of her statement.

Shouto tensed, jaw tightening as he found his earlier opinion sourly mistaken. Midnight may be a worse teacher than Aizawa—in terms of tactics. He didn't need to participate with the mutual glance of understanding between the others to know that they thought the same as well. Or at least, their thoughts may be vaguely similar to his.

But what differed between him and them was obvious as the light of the day. Instead of the uneasy quake of their lips, Shouto returned Midnight's underlying threat with a bloat of his chest, knees unwavering and his stance straight with the tiniest scowl present.

Last year, he came here to become a hero without using his father's power. But now. . . Now he was different. Now, he had grown.

Nothing will hinder his determination.

"Now!" Clapping her hands to diffuse the tension, Midnight switched onto a different topic, one on a much safer ground and appropriate for their arrival. She did, however, hid the satisfaction she felt from the rare reaction she garnered. Subtle, but there.

The only ones who had openly expressed on meeting her threat head on were the three troublesome students Aizawa had handled.

She chuckled beneath her breath. "On a less serious note, I do have some news for all of you before I leave you to settle your things." She gestured towards the pile of bags set on one corner with a few placed about the room. "From this year onwards, we'll have someone join us, so do behave."

"No way!" Kaminari perked alongside Midoriya, the former having exclaimed his surprise with a grin slowly uplifting his face. "Shinsou's joining us?!"

"Monoma must be so angry." Sero chuckled low in his chest, whispering his jibe to Mezou and Kirishima standing by his side.

_'Shinsou?'_ Shouto blinked, then remembered. _'Ah, him.'_

Shinsou Hitoshi, the alleged boy from the General Department; the one with that manipulative vocal quirk that proved to be either an immense hindrance, or a terrifying advantage. Either way, Shouto thought of him as ample enough, yet he hardly sees the need to gush over him like the rest does.

His interest lost, Shouto began to sit himself back down.

"No, no. Shinsou Hitoshi was dutifully placed in Class B." Midnight explained, waving a hand towards Kaminari's claim and promptly cutting off their growing excitement. "So for the sake of balance, us staff decided to place the transferee student in Class A."

Shouto froze.

A pin could have been heard at the beat of silence that ensued.

Shock settled.

To her amusement, Midnight kept her lips shut for one eternal second, a brow arched at the bamboozled looks and the hanging jaws she received.

One eternal second tittered to two. Then three. . .

Midoriya stepped forward, hesitant and just as taken aback as everyone else, his brows creating deep wrinkles in between as a minuscule cock of his head hinted his perplexity.

For Shouto, it was a given.

UA has never had a transferee before, and as such, it was a given that they _don't_ accept transferees. No one knows how nor why, and as much as anyone was concerned, it was a fact that didn't need pickling about. It was just that: a wordless primordial law inarguable.

Until now.

"But," Midoriya scowled, lips pursed in bewilderment. "UA doesn't accept transferees. It hasn't before. . . right?"

Midnight dragged her focus towards the boy in question, her own scowl deep and pronounced, yet all for the different reasons. She crossed her arms then gently answered his question with a nod.

"It's not that UA doesn't accept transferees," she paused, weighing the beating silence with a muted frown. "There is an exam designated to them, which would be altered depending on the fact if they're transferring as a second-year or a third-year student. The very reason why UA has never had a transferee for forty years or so—" they gasped at the revelation. "—was because no one has ever passed the exam. This is where the gap between UA and other schools are pronounced, do you understand?"

Midoriya nodded, albeit slowly with the scrunch of his face still visible. Midnight paid no heed to it, nor did she responded to the exchange of unsure looks from the rest, the information still too foreign for them to digest yet. She didn't blame them. After all, she was just as skeptic when the principal announced another hopeful one weeks ago—two years since the last one who tried to transfer and failed.

Needless to say, even she was still digesting the reality.

It wasn't as if Midnight looked down at their new kid, but with her previous school. . .

A scowl marred her features. Deep and pronounced.

"One more thing."

The quiet murmur that briefly snagged the moment faded, multiple pairs of eyes alert and focused on Midnight alone.

She sighed through her nose. "There's bound to be some rumors once class starts tomorrow, but I trust all of you to keep a level head. This is your new classmate we're talking about. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sensei!"

"And. . ." Midnight pursed her lips, weighing down her decision if she should disclose faculty information or not. Professionally speaking, she really shouldn't. Yet she also didn't want for them to hear it from anyone else, especially from a tongue that weaves false stories.

Reigning her huff, Midnight swallowed her tact. "Our new student showed promise during her entrance exam. As one of her evaluators, I would know. Surprisingly so since she's from Seigi."

There was another, more definite gasp at the reveal. Stock-still and frozen, their eyes rounded wide that spoke heights of their disbelief. And that was to be expected.

After all, if UA was a school regarded in the highest spectrum of heroics, Seigi was pushed at the very bottom—muddled and scoffed upon with its name tarnished by uncaring teachers and naive students who gave up too quickly.

If having a transferee was already defying logic, then having them from _Seigi_ broke the very foundation of it.

"However—" Midnight put emphasis on her next words with a heavy glare, aware of the questions surely springing into their mind. "If I even see _one_ of you fall beneath her level, then you can rest assured that that day will be the last day you'll have in UA. We're called an elite school for a reason, show her otherwise, then you will be answering to me. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes—"

"I said, do you understand?!"

"YES, SENSEI!"

"Better," nodding to herself, Midnight uncrossed her arms. "I hope you'll keep your promise. What I expect from the transferee, I'll also expect it from all of you." With that, Midnight ended her speech. She had said all what she needed to and that was enough for now. The rest, they would find out themselves.

Inclining her head, Midnight gestured for Yaoyorozu to come forward, to which the latter obliged without a word.

"Go get her from her room please, Yaoyorozu? Her room is between yours and Asui."

Briefly exchanging a glance with Asui herself, Yaoyorozu nodded to the task, and she went ahead with nothing but a swish of her cascading locks. Shouto watched his former seatmate with a frown, the nagging tickle of his own curiosity snickering at the back of his mind. A feeling he was certain was mutual between everyone else for a good reason.

Valid, in fact.

Yet despite that, Shouto lowered his gaze, inwardly shaking away the shock once it had begun to recede its effects. He left the eager expectations to Mineta, whose hazy gaze imagined all kinds of erotic features to see from their new _female _student. But for Shouto, a new student wouldn't matter at all. Perhaps a change between ranks. Maybe. Partly possible, but that doesn't graze any of his concerns.

He was here to become a hero, not to participate in petty gossip that all felt useless in his opinion.

Quiet in his decision, Shouto went back to sit down again, waiting along with everyone else for Yaoyorozu to drag down the addition to their class. At this point, the surprise of the class had dwindled down into timid excitement as they all stood on perked toes for a new face. The possibilities were endless. They could have another jokester, or someone reserved like Tokoyami. Or maybe she'll be a brilliant and generous person like Yaoyorozu to help them during exams. The person could be easily embarrassed, and they'd have a fun time poking harmless teasing at her, just as what Sero and Kaminari does to Midoriya.

Worst case scenario, they could have another Mineta (which is highly unlikely to expect from a girl, but still).

No one wants that.

Five minutes later, Yaoyorozu came back down.

Alone.

"Where is she?" Midnight cocked her head in demand, though it was obvious it wasn't directed towards Yaoyorozu, but rather towards the one absent.

"Well," sheepish, Yaoyorozu thinned her lips, though she dutifully kept her stance straight with a sigh through her nose. "She's not there, sensei."

". . . What?"

Her confidence slipped. "Uhm, she's not in her room?" Clearing her throat to rid of the squeak in her tone, Yaoyorozu added. "The door was unlocked, so I knocked first before pushing it open but. . . no one was there. The room was unmade too."

At her reveal, Midnight shut her eyes in frustration, the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose strong within that moment, but that would be severely uncalled for—to look distressed before her students even for such a minor reason.

But still. . .

Gritting her teeth behind pursed lips, Midnight squared her shoulders and set her hands on her hips.

"All right then," she started. "For the time being, I'll let all of you settle down in your respective quarters. I'll come back just before dinner. Hopefully, she'll be here by then."

Shouto cocked his head, shrugging away the disgruntled rumblings of his new homeroom teacher as he stood back up again and hefted his duffle bag over one shoulder to do as what's told, not that he needed any incentive. The boxes surely waiting in his newly assigned room needed to be unloaded as soon as possible if he wanted to sleep comfortably tonight. For now, that would be his priority.

Trekking up to his room, the topic of a new student slipped out of his mind as he set to work on his room.

That was almost four hours ago.

* * *

When Midnight returned as she had mentioned, the girls were already busying themselves over dinner whilst Kirishima, Midoriya and Koda were strolling around passing plates to everyone. Satou was through with setting up the tables with enough food, and Iida was ensuring that everyone was already downstairs after hours of hard labor in fixing up their rooms.

Garbed in a plain black tee and sweats, Shouto had been piling grape tomatoes on the side of his plate when their teacher announced herself in, and with his table closest to the hallway, Shouto was right next to Midnight's left when she stopped short, electric blues scanning the crowd with a flutter of her dark lashes.

She frowned. "She's still not here, I see."

Iida chose to stepped forward then, a hand casually flicking in suggestion. "Sensei, if it's really necessary to introduce her to us now, we can go ahead and look for her."

With a thoughtful frown, Midnight set her cool gaze onto the bespectacled boy, then shrugged. "Why not. That way, we can get the introductions done and over with for tomorrow."

Shouto would agree to that, no matter how loosely so. For one, the jitters taking over the rest (he swallowed a sigh at the other's constant glancing towards the door) would be dealt with sooner and they could jump back to focus tomorrow in class instead of them going about this trivial matter. It would also make it easier for the newcomer.

One less prying class.

"All right then. Iida, Todoroki—come with me."

"Hn?" Startled, Shouto raised his head, surprised to have been picked to the task.

Midnight left no room for argument, however, because as soon as she beckoned for them to follow her, she turned on her heel and marched out of the dorm; a bustling Iida tagging behind in his typical brisk walk, leaving Shouto with no choice but to stand from his seat and wordlessly shadowed their tracks.

"Where should we start to look for, sensei?"

"Let's just go down this path first, cover the area nearest towards us in case she's already on her way back. If we're still not successful, then we'll check Ground Beta."

"Got it."

Dully shoving his hands into his pockets, Shouto strolled on next to Iida, both of them walking a few steps behind Midnight. The sun had already dipped down past the horizon, leaving behind the last curls of orange within the velvet sky and the sliced moon timidly peeking behind a ball of cloud. The cobbled path they took on was already lighted by the warm poles on either side, casting the rest of the greenery behind a muddled silhouette.

peaceful.

For a few minutes, the air was silent between them—nothing but the clack of Midnight's heels and the drag Shouto and Iida's shoes to hear as they walked. There were the occasional hum of the crickets, their melody reaching in and out of their hearing range with no pattern as they took their stage for tonight. A lone firefly even breezed by, looping before Shouto's nose that he paused, mismatched eyes crossing at the tiny bulb that snagged his vision. When it flew away—the dot of light disappearing behind a tree—a small smile crossed his features, a far away memory playing in his mind that recalled dozens of fireflies flying between his fingers with the evening chill as cold as tonight.

As silly as it may have sounded, the thought of following that firefly briefly entertained his conscious.

"Sensei. . ."

Lost in the tendrils of childhood memories, Shouto shook his head when Iida's voice brought him back to reality, the images of connecting fireflies and distant giggles clearing away as he registered the gap he had unknowingly made by dawdling. With a frown, he sped up, his steps silent yet urgent until he reached a step behind Iida. Only then did he notice the way the latter clenched his fingers, a certain tightness to his jaws evident beneath the lantern lights.

Surprised, Shouto kept his question to himself upon the sight of a brittled Iida.

"What is it, Iida-kun?"

Shoulders jumping at whatever thought grueling his head, Iida bowed his head, the lens of his glasses masking the uncertainty in his eyes for a brief moment. What he wanted to convey seemed impolite to address—judgmental even. And he, for one, did not want to repeat the same hasty assumption as he had before with Midoriya. He had learned his lesson.

But at the same time. . .

Inhaling through his nose, Iida straightened himself, then pinning his gaze on the back of Midnight's tilted head, he pushed on.

"The transferee," he frowned. "You said they're from Seigi. Right, sensei?"

"Yes." Midnight nodded, unsure on where this will lead. "I did say that. Why?"

"B-But—" he winced, chastising himself for the tiny stutter. "—Seigi finally shut down their Hero Program, and I've heard all of the student under it transferred to another course."

Midnight faltered, a minuscule pause halting her pace. Yet before either of her students noticed, she forced herself to continue forward, the breeze chilling her skin through the thin material of her costume.

She understood what Iida meant, even without the latter completely spelling it out for her.

It was no secret that Seigi was subpar—no. The school was _lower_ than subpar when it comes to Heroics. Thus, it didn't come as a shock to the general public about the school finally retiring their Hero Program, choosing instead to strive with offering other courses. Likewise, the opinions of elite schools such as UA and Shiketsu weren't particularly. . . kind when describing Seigi.

Admittedly, Midnight could say that she was also guilty of such opinions before. She never verbalize them out of respect to Seigi's history in producing good Heroes a long time ago, but those heroes were already gone or retired. Their era was through. The only thing that came out of Seigi continuing it Hero Program was giving society a bunch of lousy sidekicks that were too self-observed to fully grasp the concept of their profession.

So, yes. She was one of those who quietly slumped in relief when Seigi finally dropped the announcement.

But on the other hand. . .

Iida had a valid concern.

Was UA really going to allow a student of Seigi—who always produced half-baked heroes—to learn here?

Leaning her head back, Midnight spared a quick look over her shoulder, electric blues meeting navy behind glasses.

"It's true that all of their non-graduating students from last year each moved to another course to their liking," she said. "But, in contrast to Seigi's reputation, their principal is as efficient as our own. He was quick to reach out to other schools to recommend the only student who wouldn't change course."

"That's why he recommended the only one who would continue in the course to UA," Iida finished, more so to himself rather as a reply.

Midnight hummed her confirmation, though hesitant. "Not quite. As I've said, Seigi's principal reached out to numerous schools, it's just that UA was the one to accept."

Iida widened his eyes, the mild shock briefly stealing him of words. A look that Midnight managed to see with another careful glance over her shoulder.

For the most part, to anyone else, releasing such faculty information to students would be strictly unwise, yet Midnight begged to differ. Tanaka Daichi, while a man she hardly knew of, may have done all he could for Uchiki Kaze, but such actions would fruit problems later on.

Especially with the upcoming events scheduled for all second years all over the country.

A student from Seigi going into UA would no doubt boil over in public gossips, a dessert waiting for the media to inhale. But between schools, Uchiki Kaze would be known as someone who had luckily landed a spot in UA due to the fact that the rest would not accept her.

All because Tanaka Daichi had reached out to numerous schools—and was declined.

Frowning to herself, Midnight quietly grumbled on the amount of public attention she knew she would have to face. She was no Aizawa, but even she could sympathize with the amount of spotlight aimed towards him for all those troubles class A had gone through plus Bakugo Katsuki and Todoroki Shouto's unprecedented fame—heightened from their quick actions in saving civilians after passing their Provisional License Exam.

And now they have another one.

"What do you mean, sensei?"

"Hm?" Blinkinng out of her stupor, Midnight paused on her steps, twisting around to face the befuddled face of Iida and, a step behind, the silent questioning gaze of Todoroki.

"What do you mean," Iida repeated. "When UA was the only one to accept? She wasn't preferred by other schools?"

"Yes."

Iida reeled at the sheer frankness of her tone. Undeterred, Midnight continued, intent on laying it clear to the bespectacled boy without fail. After all, Iida Tenya was the person who led his class last year, the one whom everyone relied on whether they were aware of it or not. If Iida will show no negativity towards Uchiki Kaze's background, then so will the others.

And Midnight wanted that more than anything at the moment for her class. Unity.

Unfortunately, with the new girl included, Midnight now has two students to worry about when teaching "unity".

"Apart from the fact that your new classmate decided to transfer late, her school records were. . ." _'How to say it?'_ "Highly unsatisfactory."

At this point, Iida's pupils were dots with all the assumptions drilling his head.

"Another delinquent?!"

Midnight blinked once. Then twice. Behind Iida, Shouto carefully knitted his brows then asked—

"Another?"

As if his very question defied the rules of psychics, Iida shot an incredulous look towards Todoroki. "You mean to tell me that you don't think of Bakugo-kun as a delinquent, Todoroki-kun?"

_'Ah, of course.'_ Amused, Midnight lightly scoffed through her nose. _'Bakugo.'_

Apparently, 'highly unsatisfactory' is synonymous to Bakugo Katsuki's devil-may-care attitude.

"Indeed, Bakugo-kun does have most a delinquent's qualities, but he is far from one, Iida-kun. I assure you." Midnight shook her head in jest, lips thinned to sucked in her laughter. "But, to answer your question, then no. We don't have a delinquent as a transferee."

"O-Oh," tinged pink by his quick reaction (what did he just say about quick judgment?!), Iida coughed into his fist. "My apologies."

"Don't worry, it's fine!"

Midnight had waved away the boy's worries with a flick of her hand, a carefree smile on her face briefly easing his conscience. However, as soon as she faced forward—instantly resuming their walk—her smile slipped. Ruined by the quick twist of her lips into a worn pout.

Uchiki Kaze may have been a star pupil in Seigi, but she knew the girl would be quite a work to handle. Aizawa had even mentioned it in his report as a side comment, because regardless of her previous status in her school, a closer look enabled them to witness that the girl's academic behavior was. . . cursory, at best.

A warning from Tanaka Daichi also supported their claim.

_Unfinished assignments; the disability to adhere to her superiors' commands; unsatisfactory grades in selective subjects; lack of cooperation and interaction with peers; skipping classes (rarely, but the records were inked and permanent); and lately, since her passing the Provisional Hero License Exam, extensive amount of absences that stretched for days._

Midnight lowered her chin, thoughtful, the beat of a nagging migraine already blooming in the back of her head.

Obviously, Uchiki Kaze may have been the very definition of what Iida assumed her to be, yet for all its worth, Midnight would also push it on the lack of proper guidance. The girl's grades in her records were inconsistent. Failing at first, then would surge high or average before slumping yet again. And when Midnight watched over the girl when she took the written exam, Midnight had spotted the problem almost immediately.

Kaze had struggled. Evidently so, a prominent pause on some questions ensuing that was filled with her pencil tapping against the desk. But then she had also taken a deliberate amount of time to double-check her answers, puzzling deep into every question just to make certain.

She tried her best.

. . . Not the best score ever, that Midnight could say, but she tried.

Comparing her performance with her grades from Seigi, Midnight concluded that Uchiki Kaze put extra attention on her studies. She was slow to inhale information and she knew it, which explained why she would have high grades after achieving a low one. She worked hard on them.

But the main problem was remembering them.

_'Academics,'_ Midnight thought to herself._ 'I need to work on her academics. She struggles not due to lack of effort, but just because.'_

A slur of ideas popped into her mind then, all of which included Yaoyorozu and the Uchiki. Hadn't Yaoyorozu conducted group studies with the others last year?

Midnight would just have to make Kaze join.

Satisfied with that solution, Midnight resumed her quick gait, mindful for the other two following behind her. Soon enough, when it was clear that the girl they were looking for wasn't in immediate vicinity, she sent the two of them to check Ground Beta while she ventured towards Ground Gamma.

Yet all throughout their search, a question remained in Midnight's head.

_'What to do with you, Uchiki Kaze?'_

* * *

Four hours.

It took Kaze nearly four hours—and minutes more—before she found her feet settling back on the floor of her room, knees almost giving with the way her muscles complained; throbbing and spasming after a bout of vertiginous flight all over Musutafu City, pushing past the limits of her speed that had now frozen the feeling on her cheeks as result.

Plopping ungracefully on her bed, Kaze released a hefty sigh, a hand slipping through the loose knots in her windswept hair.

"That felt good," she murmured.

'Good' would be an understatement. As it was the constant churning in her gut and the apprehension filling her lungs to oblivion were gone with the wind (pun unintended), swept away by sheer exhilaration then forgotten with her testing the planetary winds again.

As usual, there was no progress in her attempt to wield the stronger winds, leaving her muscles soft as jelly. But that was far from her concern at the moment.

Heaving a shaky breath out of her quivering lungs, Kaze slumped.

She hadn't expected to react that way: with the anxiety jarring her composure and the dawning realization of being away from home. It was like being thrown into frozen lake head first, and it disturbed her.

She hoped this would be the first and last.

Glancing up on the dresser haphazardly placed by the window (a silent reminder that she should fix her room soon), Kaze spotted her phone next to the key of her room. Leaning forward with a wince, she took it to check the time.

**1 7 : 5 7**

"It's almost dinner," she frowned. She didn't even eat lunch. And as if on cue, her stomach caved inwards as a croaked rumble garbled out.

That settled it then.

Pushing herself to a stand, Kaze sluggishly trekked towards her shoes, slipping them on with no problem before she turned towards her door. It was closed.

She distinctively recalled leaving it ajar.

Frown deepening as the hunger of her stomach tingled, Kaze pushed one foot forward then the next, her movements growing stiff by the second as pain flared from her overused muscles. Either way, her mind was already busy with the fact that her classmates had probably arrived hours ago, taking the time to settle in while she had been crouching on the edge of a nameless building, watching the pink of the sky morph into bruised indigo.

Ah, regrets.

_'Hanabi will kill me if she found out I skipped lunch,'_ she pulled her door open. _'Not to mention, deliberately escaping introductions. And cleaning up my room.'_

Despite how the thought would usually make her queasy, Kaze felt amused more than ever. If, God forbid, Hanabi did find out about her first-day failures, then the twins would no doubt be the receiving end of their sister's wrath simply because she wasn't there to receive it.

Chuckling at the thought, Kaze mindlessly closed her door with a click.

"You must be the transferee, kero."

Out of pure reflex, Kaze whipped around at the noise—her arms up and flexed with fingers curled as her foot steadied her balance from behind, the shudder of her muscles temporarily forgotten as every knot within her jumped in alarm.

A swallowed squeak was her received response. Yet not a second later, the threat of cold steel probing her back was felt through the thick of her sweater, digging on the small of her spine as a warning.

Kaze froze, then faltered.

"Hurt Tsu-chan and you'll regret it."

Tilting her head to the side, Kaze gazed from the corner of her eye at the girl standing behind her; her back arched akin to a feline ready to pounce, with a hair of thick, voluminous black pulled into a high ponytail. Even in her stance, Kaze could tell that the girl was taller than her—thicker too, evident by the fitting shirt and sweatpants that hugged her shapely thighs.

The cold steel touching Kaze's back was a metal rod. Long and sturdy—and the girl was holding it.

Realizing her mistake, Kaze eased her arms down, the rope of wind sneakily swirly around her ankles leaving her as she straightened her knees.

Wiping the unpleasant look on her face, she turned her attention back on the girl before her this time.

"Sorry," Kaze cleared her throat, pathetically inclining her head to symbolize her guilt. "I wasn't paying attention. That was my fault."

At her surrender, the girl behind her immediately drop the rod pointed on her back. An action that, while a relief, made Kaze inwardly frown in disapproval. Any quick dismissal of a threat (even though she wasn't one) was a careless and risky decision. Borderly naïve.

"That's fine, kero."

Ripping her attention away from the one behind her, Kaze eyed the first girl again, curiosity lit in her eyes as she finally took in her odd appearance. There was something distinctively familiar in the way the girl held herself in—wide, unjudging eyes, rounded cheeks with a pursed smile stretching from cheek to cheek while a hint of a pink tongue poked out between her lips. The girl was slouching oo, elbows tucked in her side that made her look smaller than she already was while her hair of deep olive framed her face—tied up in the most complicated yet exquisite hairdo Kaze has ever seen.

"I was the one who startled you, so I suppose we share the fault." The girl smiled, eyes squinting as she fiddled her chin with a finger, her words adorably croaked like a frog.

A frog.

Kaze blinked, the familiar mannerism finally making sense.

Offering out her hand, Kaze put on a smile. "Uchiki Kaze. And yes, I'm the transferee."

"Asui Tsuyu, it's nice to meet you." Without hesitation, the girl shook Kaze's hand. "You can call me 'Tsu-chan'. All my friends do."

"Tsuyu," Grinning, Kaze dropped the shake. Though relying on first impressions was never her style, there was something about the way Tsuyu twisted her words. Blunt—honest.

She can work with that.

"Then I guess it's only fair if you call me 'Kaze'."

The smile on Tsuyu's lips stretched wider.

With one introduction down, Kaze turned back towards the other girl, her grin sobering down as she subconsciously mimicked the aura this girl carried herself in. Tsuyu carried herself lax, yet true. Similar to the way Kaze held herself, though visibly rougher. But this dark-haired girl with pools of ink for eyes held herself differently. Reserved, almost, with a posture showing nothing but perfection. Refined.

But when she smiled, it was sweet. Far from the threatening look she had given Kaze when the latter had unwittingly made a move to attack Tsuyu.

"I'm Yaoyorozu Momo," the girl was the one who offered her hand first this time. "Pleased to meet you too, if you can excuse my initial behavior."

Shrugging one shoulder, Kaze shook the girl's hand with a small smirk. "It's justifiable."

"If you don't mind us asking," walking forward to join the two once their handshake was through, Tsuyu stood beside Momo, head animatedly inclined in question. "Where have you been? Midnight-sensei already told us earlier that we'll have someone new joining us, but you weren't around when she was going to introduce you."

Right. Introductions.

Now that all her previous apprehension were erased, Kaze found herself judging her initial reaction. It was silly, but she couldn't change what has happened now.

_'Nemuri's going to kill me._' Briefly, Kaze wondered if her new homeroom teacher would replace Hanabi's role. But before she could conjure an excuse, Kaze's stomach made another rumble. Louder, this time, and effectively putting the topic on hold.

". . . Excuse me."

Momo tried to stifle her amusement to no avail. "Maybe you'd like to join us downstairs? Some of us were already done eating, but it'll be fine. That way we can let the others know that you're here too."

Tipping her head down in embarrassment, Kaze allowed a strand of her dark hair to escape behind her ear, unknowingly making the two girls zero in their gaze at her marked cheek.

"I won't mind that," sheepish, Kaze peaked at the two beneath her lashes, shoulders lax and lowered with a small curl on her lips. A face she usually reserved to Hanabi and Takumi to win them over. "If I'm not intruding."

It was as if her very words were a trigger, because no sooner did the last of her syllables fell from her lips did Momo suddenly perked up—a mellow gleam in her eyes as her whole aura visibly brightened like rainbow after the rain.

"You won't!" Gushed Momo. "My parents brought back some gifts from their trip to Singapore! They were plenty, so I've brought back some cans of Yellow Gold Tea Buds enough for everyone! Of course, you're included too. It's—" breath hitching as she caught on her ramble, Momo bit on her lip, timidly clasping her hands together as she finished with a murmured, "—It's said to be really healthy. The tea."

Kaze blinked, then promptly picked up her jaw. "That tea. . . Isn't that supposed to be, like, super _super_ rare?"

Tsuyu snapped her gaze towards Kaze. "You know it?"

Kaze had to shrug, though she couldn't deny the metaphorical slap to her face. Looking at Momo, she knew it was far from intentional, yet Kaze couldn't hide the fact that she felt like she should bow before the girl now. She was right, this girl was refined—exquisitely so with the wealth to match.

"My, uh, sister adores tea, and I heard her talk about that tea before," _'About how the leaves are technically 24-karat gold and harvested only once in a year.'_ "So I suppose I know the gist of it."

Oblivious to Kaze's out-of-the-blue uncertainty, Momo regained her beam before she began ushering both her and Tsuyu towards the elevator.

"Then let's go! Satou-kun also prepared some desert for us all to share. Tsuyu-chan and I will introduce you to everyone."

Kaze perked. _'Sweets?'_

To Kaze's left, Tsuyu fished out her phone from her pocket, waving the device before the former with another wide smile. "I'll text Iida-kun to let him know you're here. He and Todoroki-san went with Midnight-sensei to look for you earlier."

"Who are they?"

"Iida-kun was our class president last year. He's nice, but he's a little too pushy sometimes. You'll get used to him in a while." Tsuyu shrugged, fingers tapping a little more on the screen of her phone before she continued. "And Todoroki-san is the son of the number one hero."

"Endeavor?"

"Yeah."

". . . I see." Shuffling into the elevator after Momo, Kaze casually stuffed her hands back in the pockets of her sweater, biting on her tongue when she took notice on the strain of her muscles now that she had let go of her earlier jumpy reaction. She was tempted to return back to her room and lie down, especially when her fingers began to shake, yet her upset stomach was holding her back. That, and her unwillingness to disappoint these girls in any way possible. After such a misunderstanding for a first encounter, Kaze would have to wipe away any lingering judgments.

However, she couldn't deny that the alarming shock had taken over her senses, enough so that it threatened to bring back the clawing pull of her earlier anxiety.

A child of Endeavor's was here, the current number one hero. Though far from All Might, Kaze was more than aware of the flame hero's strength and efficiency. With All Might gone, Endeavor was unparalleled.

And his son was her classmate now.

Though with Momo and Tsuyu both eagerly chatting beside her, all Kaze could provide were a few neutral answer here and there—humming or grunting whenever appropriate.

Her confidence wavered. She knew going into UA would mean she will learn with stronger students who will, in return, help her make stronger because she simply has to surpass their strength. She wanted to. Needed to.

But _fuck. _She has Endeavor's son to compete against and who knows how strong the others are as well. For all Kaze knew, Momo and Tsuyu could be one of the strongest too.

_'Shit.'_

With her thoughts brewing, the pitchy ding of the elevator signaled their arrival in the first floor and it opened to reveal a lively dining area full of strangers' faces. Immediately, the sight that had Kaze pausing a step behind Momo and Tsuyu as she halted her earlier musings.

Her chest shrunk—too tight for her suddenly erratic heart that had nothing to do with her jelly muscles.

Suddenly, she felt like entering Junior High all over again; the day she first became a student since, well, ever. And neither Haru nor Kouyou's presence was here to back her up.

She was alone.

"Everyone!" It was Momo who hollered, gathering everyone's attention in a second flat. "She's here!"

Lowering her gaze, Kaze curled her toes inside her shoes, stiffly ignoring the urge to shuffle in her discomfort.

There was a notable halt in the air. A quiet screech before numerous pairs of eyes drifted towards Momo, Tsuyu and—most probably—Kaze. Grins faltered and eyebrows arched, demurred by the presence of a stranger.

Well, all except for a boy with bright, golden hair and cerulean eyes. He was standing closest to them with an air of dazzling ease and confidence, dressed in a rather aristocratic dress shirt and ironed pants. He stared at Kaze head on with no hint of shame nor bashful smiles.

"This is Uchiki Kaze," Momo continued once the chatter has quieted. "She's the new student Midnight-sensei said who's assigned to our class."

At the far back, sitting on the couch with arm braced on the back of said couch, a boy with flaring red hair and sharp features tipped his head back in confusion and said, "The transferee?"

It was supposed to be a murmur, his statement. But with the silence, his mumble could have been perceived as a shout.

"Yep." Tsuyu nodded beside Kaze.

"Hello!"

Stunned, Kaze took an involuntary step back when a girl with cotton-pink skin and matching hair jumped forward to greet her. Kaze had to blink at the peculiar yet exotic eyes of gold dipped in endless black.

"I'm Ashido Mina. Pleased to meet you!"

"Ah," Perplexed, Kaze accepted the hand offered to her. "Me too. To you."

Unconcerned (or maybe she was just naturally excited and bouncy that she's oblivious), Mina went to wrap an arm around Kaze's shoulder, but upon observing that the latter was inches taller (enough to cause discomfort for her), the girl hooked an arm around Kaze's elbow instead. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. We're all friends here, so don't be shy."

"I'm not shy." Kaze mumbled._ 'Just hungry.'_

"I see. Well then, welcome to Class A! We look forward to being your friend."

"Mina," with a hand on the pink girl's shoulder, Momo carefully stopped the former from hauling Kaze away. "Uchiki-san hasn't eaten yet. We should let her sit down first. She's hungry."

"Oh," her smile turning sheepish, Mina began leading Kaze towards the tables instead, leaving Momo and Tsuyu to return to their respective places before they went upstairs. "That's fine, we can talk to you while you eat."

Kaze begged to differ. Eating and talking were actions she does _separately_, not simultaneously. Not to mention, how immensely awkward it would be to have numerous people stare and talk to her whilst she shoves food in her mouth. Not unless they were eating too, but by the looks of it, more than half of them were already done.

Kaze popped her mouth open to suggest another option when she froze.

Mina followed, her pink parlor paling a shade whiter in dread.

"Not much chest. Perky, but not much. . . but boy this ass is _fine!"_

Before them, a chorus of choked (and embarrassed) gasps from everyone made Kaze knew that _this _was something they were dreading to happen.

"Mineta, you pervert!"

Kaze twisted around, teeth on her lip at the strain she evicted on her muscles. But she didn't care.

She kicked whatever—_whoever_—that was _leeching_ on her bum with the heel of her foot, her force considerably less out of reluctance to hurt a stranger.

She regretted that.

"MY NOSE!"

"You deserved that." Kaze wrinkled her nose, eyes narrowed at the hunched figure of a particularly small boy on the floor, his hands nursing his nose with a whimper. She didn't even know the guy and he groped her.

"That's Mineta," eyes stern, Mina gestured towards the boy with an oddly shaped hair, her sigh tired yet apologetic at the same time. "He's like that all the time. Ignore him."

"Everyone's problem, I assume?" Kaze stared at the writhing boy, Mineta, with an arched brow.

Patting her shoulder, Mina gave a grave nod. "Yep."

Playing a deaf ear to the squirt's squeals (a boy with knobbed elbows had actually stood up from his seat on the couch to help the pervert), Kaze followed Mina towards the last table. She was almost excited, despite the lingering eyes she could feel on the back of her. No doubt, as soon as she sat, someone other than Mina would strike up a conversation with her and she would have no idea how to return it. There were others still left sitting by the table Mina was leading her to, a girl with bobbed chestnut hair and round, pink cheeks along with a boy with a mess of mossy green hair. With them, a boy with the head of a raven sat too.

Two chairs were empty. One next to the raven, and the other before the girl.

She frowned. Kaze just wanted to go eat, so she focused on the thought of a nice heaping meal instead of the knowledge that those three would probably try to snag a conversation with her. As was polite. If not, Mina would probably rope them in, the girl seemed to be naturally sociable so it was logical to expect just that.

Kaze swallowed her sigh. Perhaps, she can actually try to converse? A little reply here and there between bites wouldn't hurt. Right? Besides, just a little bit more and she can finally sit down to rest her legs and fill the void in her stomach.

Just a little bit more.

Yet before she and Mina could grab their own chair, the sound of the door slamming open froze everyone in their tracks, an ominous aura sweeping in that clutched their shoulders when the sound of steady footfalls of heels echoed throughout the lobby.

Kaze felt the glare land on her before she even turned.

"UCHIKI!"

She sighed. _'And here I thought I'm free from Hanabi yelling at me.' _Nose wrinkling, she gave a somewhat contrite glance towards Mina before gently tugging her arm loose from the latter's hold. _'Guess someone just took her place.'_

"Where in the world have you been in the past four hours?!"

Resigned, Kaze dragged her feet to turn and face the demon herself. "Nemuri—"

She brought her gaze up.

Wide eyes of mismatched colors briefly filled her vision before a fist was brought down on her head.

"IT'S '_SENSEI' _TO YOU, BRAT!"

* * *

**And so the journey begins :)**

**Little trivia: I was supposed to have Aizawa remain as their homeroom teacher. In fact, this chapter was already written with him being so. But then, I wanted to stay true to the Japanese culture as their homeroom teacher changes by year. It was simply realistic to do so, not to mention, having Aizawa AGAIN just seems so repetitive and unfair to the other faculty staffs. He and All Might seems to do almost everything, so I opted to use Midnight instead. Out of the rest of the teachers, she was the one who I felt was closest to having Aizawa's thoroughly strict way of teaching. What, with her sadistic streak and penchant for teasing the kids. Besides, her upbeat persona was enough to balance it out, so there you go. **

**Not to mention, Kaze went to UA because of Aizawa. It seems a bit too easy for her to have him as her homeroom teacher. She'll have to wait for it. Heh.**

**And finally, Shouto sees her. :)**


	8. Identity

**a/n: the new manga arc has me spasming! they're almost 2nd years *stifles proud tears* and they've grown so far but then we have Aizawa and I'm just**—

**onto the story :)**

* * *

**"My n-name's Koda Koji. We're classmates."**

* * *

_**"**__**Now, for our special guest this afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome All Might!**__**"**_

_The applause that followed as soon as the host made mention of the name was deafening, to say the least. A series of whooping cheers and worshiping cries that merely bellowed louder when a man of immeasurable size made himself known. Although to be quite honest, he was tiny_—_perhaps just as tall as the length of her arm._

_Of course, that was because he was trapped inside the convex screen of their television. _

_Red eyes blinked thoughtfully, head cocked as she watched the man being interviewed with his deep and pronounced laughter puncturing the air even through the screen. _

_How odd, his laugh._

_"What a man, that guy."_

_Though she may hate to admit it, the three-year-old turned her attention away from the screen and settled it on her father sitting beside her on the couch. There was a small curl on his lips that seemed hard to detect, yet even from her view below, she could easily see the bright haze in her father's eyes that spoke infinite admiration and awe. All for this man of impossible stature poised within the screen._

_The girl sat there and steered her gaze forward again, a wrinkle between her brows and a pout on her lips. For once, she was settled, a break from her usual buzzing movements._

_She tried to understand._

_She knew the man. There was no one here who doesn't. _

_All Might. _

_All Might, according to the news and the talk of their neighborhood (and their house too), had once again performed a marvelous feat of heroism and bravery when he had stopped a train wreck from occurring and, in turn, saved hundreds of people from meeting their deaths. Several injuries that were minor were suffered, but no deaths. Each person within those two trains came out unscathed as they were boarding them, if not a little shaken. But that was to be expected. _

_But the highlight was his actions. It was amazing. Surreal._

_A true stamp of one outstanding hero._

_All Might._

_Biting her lip, the girl wiggled on her seat, hands planted on the space between her thighs with her legs folded on either side. _

_She cocked her head. _

_"Papa," she called, tugging on the hem of her father's shirt. "What is he doing?"_

_Perhaps, she should have worded her question better. She knows what the man was doing. It was his job. Being a hero was his job_—_rescuing and fighting bad guys to keep everyone safe. It was a job of praise and worthy; the most respected occupation to ever have._

_And him, All Might, was supposedly the greatest hero the world has ever had. Will ever have._

_But still, she failed to grasp one thing._

_"What do you mean, sweetheart? They're just interviewing All Might about his recent rescue."_

_"I don't mean that."_

_"Then what do you mean?"_

_"Why does he want to be a hero?"_

_Her father paused, stunned. She took that silence as a means to continue._

_"All Might is amazing." She pursed her lips, unable to deny even her own awe towards the well-respected man. However, she had to ask. __She just has to._

_"But papa, what's so great about being a hero?"_

_She didn't mean to sound so ungrateful. She really didn't. __All she had was pure confusion and the thirst for a clear answer to rid of it. __In her young mind, she understood that becoming a hero was considered to be the greatest and most noble job to ever have, and that no matter the rank, everyone can rest a little easier just knowing they were there. Like how a child would feel comforted by their stuffed toy, knowing teddy would chase away the nightmares in their sleep. It was natural._

_But why would these people choose it? In her three-year-old mindset (almost four, just a few more months until her birthday), she failed to grasp what was so great about being a hero, and that made her odd._

_What was so great about danger? _

_What was so great about making bad people hate you and chase you down when they very well knew they weren't following rules? _

_What was so great about being selfless for everybody, when everybody wouldn't be selfless for you?_

_She couldn't see the reason why._

_People love him, All Might. She knew why people love him. A selfless man with a strength to envy. The admiration thrown at him was not one to question, and all those silly things people like to do for him (she recalled those toys done in his image being collected by the other boys in their neighborhood) were well-deserved. People throw confetti at him, celebrates his name and praise the land he walks on._

_But _why?

_Was it worth it, to give himself to the people without saving some for himself? To everyone, All Might was indestructible._

_So how come all she can release was pity?_

_Frowning to herself, the girl watched on, and as she did so, she felt a deep twist in her chest the more she watched the shadowed image of All Might despite his Cheshire grins. _

_She couldn't even see his eyes._

_"Why does he do it, papa?" _

_Her father reached out then, curling one gangly arm around her before swiftly pulling her onto his lap. She giggled at the jostling distraction. _

_Kissing her plump cheek and eliciting another giggle, Shibata Riku hunched over her form to stare right into her eyes, his own shade of red gaze bright and loving with just the hint of mischief present whenever they were left alone by her mother._

_She smiled. She didn't need All Might when she has her father._

_Riku tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and said, "Being a hero is very honorable, you know? All Might and all the other heroes are just kind people who want to help, so they do." He stopped with a smirk, and cocked his head in a way that was similar to hers._

_Like father like daughter._

_"Plus, don't you think being a hero is cool?" He paused again, this time with an expression so tame that conveyed his sincerity. "Do you want to be a hero, sweetheart? Is that why you're asking?"_

_The girl looked forward._

_Her father's answer was good. Better than expected even, yet it failed to satisfy the clutch in her stomach. She had a hard time believing that people will help just because they want to. None of the kids would even help her look for her missing ball last week without a bribe, and the lady across the street certainly played a blind eye when her mother slipped by the sidewalk and hurt her ankle enough to make walking difficult. _

_There always has to be something in return for them to do something. _

_The girl doubted All Might was like that, but she doubted every hero was like All Might. And still, her father's reply didn't quite hit her true query._

_Was it worth it?_

_The girl looked down on herself: safe and warm in her father's grasp while her mother fetched food to feed them all. Then she looked at All Might: stared hard onto his shadowed features and his overly animated mannerism that looked somewhat strained._

_She caught a peek of something white beneath the cuffs of his sleeve. They were tinged brown._

_"No," she settled back on her father's chest. "I don't want to be a hero."_

•

•

•

**A **hand reached out with a sluggish spasm, fingers splayed out with the tiniest hint of tremble warming each tip of his digits. Slow and careful.

Deliberate yet hesitant.

As the sun's nosy rays poked through the blinds of his windows, Shouto held a ball of its light on his palm.

A sigh squeezed out of his lungs, heavy and tired despite just being awoken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to stir his emotions to another direction. And that was wrong.

Fingers curled in and the ball of light in his hand simply poured out. Bold and blinding.

Just like the memory of the dream that now burned his mind's eyes. Dreams of the cold texture of his roofs and sunny grins thrown at his way.

Eyes half-lidded behind tangles of white and red, Shouto set aside his dilemma with an iron resolve that only years of self-discipline could accomplish. He stood up, pulling back his covers that had cocooned his old, childish insecurities all throughout the night with a promise.

_"Hey, Shou-kun! Look, the cloud looks like a bunny!"_

He paused, closed his eyes to fix his grip on his composure, then resumed his preparations. He took his freshly ironed uniform and carried his bathing supplies, jogged downstairs to shower, pulled on his uniform right after, went on another trip back to his room to return his pajamas and other things, shouldered his bag, then went back down again to join everyone in breakfast.

Routine, routine.

Inwardly nodding to himself, Shouto subtly squared his shoulders, his shoes scuffing the floor the second he arrived in the kitchen slash dining room everyone shared their meals. That itself was the bulk of their common room and the main area where the boys and girls began to mingle.

The area where he'd eventually meet. . . _her_, in an everyday occurrence. As if it was nothing.

A muscle ticked.

Settling himself on an empty seat next to Satou (with the latter automatically passing him an empty plate and a pair of chopsticks to use with an easy 'good morning'), Shouto tried to ignore the unbidden _need _to check around the room and forced his eyes down.

"Good morning, Todoroki-san."

Carefully lifting his gaze, Shouto eyed the bowl of steaming rice held by mitted hands. With a gleeful smile to start the morning, Yaoyorozu inclined her head when he accepted with a grateful hum in the base of his throat.

"Good morning." He returned. A cup of tea was also set next to his plate by the creation heroine, no doubt originating from one of her expensive tins she'd been sharing to everyone else.

The viands for today were already laid out in the middle of the table he shared with Satou and Tokoyami. So far, most of the others were still getting ready upstairs in their respective rooms or were hurrying to shower. Not that there was a need to rush, there was still a hefty time to spare.

"Salmon?" Satou offered, holding the plate of said steaming fish since Shouto couldn't have reached it on that side.

He nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Prepping up his food, Shouto eyed the table housing Midoriya, with Iida across from him and Uraraka by his side. The three seemed to be engrossed in an easy conversation, with Midoriya sporting pink on his cheeks that looked uniformed to Uraraka's.

Shouto looked away.

She's not there.

In another table, Jirou idly sipped on her juice just as Yaoyorozu sat down next to her, finished with serving everyone's table to begin on her own breakfast. Kaminari had just arrived to join Sero, Kirishima and Bakugo on one table, though the explosion hero seemed to extract himself fully from the loud talk ongoing in their table.

Tsuyu arrived and occupied the last seat on Midoriya's table.

Koda joined Jirou's side.

Mina dragged Hagakure with her before throwing a fleeting greeting to everyone else.

Shouji lumped in with Mineta.

Aoyama sauntered in with a natural flourish.

Minute by minute, the room began to fill until everyone was present; the once low murmur rising into the buzzing chatter Shouto has gotten familiar within the year they've all been together. He hadn't expected it, yet after the weeks of spring break holed up in his home, Shouto felt himself welcome the atmosphere—his bones soft and joints lax as he reacquainted back to their carefree dynamics compared to his tension-ridden house.

It was almost surreal how just about a year ago—or less—his home was absent of a mother's love, his relationships with his siblings strained as a grater and his hatred for his father as scorching as his fire and his attitude colder than his ice.

Yet the day just before he left for UA, he saw his mother bloom a smile so reminiscent of his early childhood that it pricked the vulnerable corner of his heart. His brother and sister were there, awkward on their feet after years of forced separation, yet Shouto felt their unyielding support nonetheless.

And his father. . .

His father was trying.

Painfully. Slowly. Unabashedly. Idiotically.

_Trying_.

For all its worth, Shouto didn't know whether or not he could forgive his father. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. His mother seemed to have, so does his sister—in a way. The only one who seemed to share his sentiments was his brother, Natsuo.

Still, Shouto could not deny what was happening.

Everything was changing_._

And then this.

This. . .

Thinning his lips to swallow back the cold shudder that shook his spine, Shouto let his eyes roam again. Whether or not it was against his will, he didn't know. It was both torture and salvation at the same time—the agonizing disbelief battling tooth and nail against the delusional hope.

Illogical. Logical.

Was it?

"Hey,"

It was Kaminari who yanked everyone's attention, yellow eyes pinned on the girl's side entrance to come into the common room with a small frown on his face.

"Where's the new girl?"

Gingerly sipping on his tea, Shouto inwardly thanked the blonde for asking the question for him.

Yaoyorozu hummed, a thoughtful finger on her bottom lip as a crease formed between her brows. From another table, she shared a curious glance with Tsuyu.

"She wasn't in her room when I knocked on her door this morning." She began, tentative yet curious. "So I figured she must've gone on a jog or something and come back before breakfast, but. . ."

Everyone shared a look.

The transferee didn't return. She was missing.

Again.

"Maybe this is normal behavior for her?" Midoriya wondered harmlessly.

"Who knows." Sero shrugged. His casual acceptance onto the subject made everyone do the same. After all, they were used to Bakugo's and Todoroki's solitary behaviors.

What was one more?

Just as everybody recovered from the transferee's absence with a promise to check on her later, Shouto remained rooted on the subject. He was torn—made known by the plop in the bottom of his stomach. Subtle, yet pronounced. The way the disappointment made his tea cold was something Shouto couldn't deny either, but the stubborn head of his anxiety wanted to deem it as unimportant. So she was gone in the morning—had probably woken up earlier and left _before_ Iida and Yaoyorozu began their day to escape both the scrupulous duo's notice. There was no harm in being unreasonably early before the crack of dawn, even if their school was a five-minute stroll from the dorm.

However. . .

What if it was her?

What if it was not her?

Was it even _possible?_

Thought after thought surged through his brain until he didn't know. He couldn't land on a proper decision—marred by his irrevocable overthinking that made everything so complicated.

Did she recognize him?

Shouto scowled to himself.

She hadn't even spared him a glance last night when she just stood there receiving Midnight-sensei's scolding, giving nothing but a crook to her lips to show her irk. Her expressions were nothing but multiple tugs of subtle shifts of the muscles on her face, yet for some reason, they were all so stark—made clear to show all that she felt within the minimum movements.

So unlike the magnified morphs of the girl's features in his memories.

What would he do if it was her?

What would he do if it was _not_ her?

Shouto mused to himself—shrugging on his bag after stowing away his own dishes—as he trekked towards the school to begin his first day.

His _first _day.

He should be paying attention, yet he couldn't even pinpoint when the ceremony had begun.

"Good day, everyone! Welcome back to another year here in UA, and for this year's freshmen, we welcome you to our humble institution!"

Red and grey looked around the crowd, ignorant to the lull of Nedzu's cheerful voice. He frowned.

She wasn't there.

"Now then, to explain to you the rules and regulations we uphold in this school. . ."

All throughout the ceremony, Shouto waited with a coil in his stringed muscles the whole time. He vaguely noted how this year's class 1-A was missing too—and he recalled Aizawa-sensei testing their quirk with the threat of expulsion as a noose around their neck last year. It was his favorite threat.

Seems like the history will go on still.

Yet not even that distraction could drown away his worries.

Illogical, _illogical _worries dwelling on the impossible.

He was an idiot.

As the ceremony dully dwindled to a close, Shouto reasoned he must be. He saw the grave—had seen it more than once and labeled it _too many times _for him to gaze upon.

He could recall it—recall how the stone felt marble-smooth beneath the tips of his fingers, yet it gnarled and clawed at his insides until he walked away with another piece of his soul gone, pinned with the white lilacs and purple hyacinths he left behind.

That name shouldn't be there, bringing with it the smile and eyes that had accompanied him in his darkest hours.

That name shouldn't be there, leaving him alone with a hanging promise to meet again.

_That name_ _shouldn't be there._

But it was and that was how it has been since her life was stolen before she could prove society wrong. For him, that was how it's been for two years.

However, fate was cruel.

The name was there, but the face of the girl he remembered was _here._

Shouto clenched his fists and locked his jaw, his feet heavy as he walked back to his classroom along with everybody else after the ceremony. He was tired and the year hasn't even begun yet—the _class _hasn't even begun yet.

Pathetic.

Still—

He sauntered in his room, looked past the new arrangements of their seats of seven rows and four or three interchanging columns.

—she wasn't here.

* * *

The screen faded to dark with a dainty click, slender fingers clutching it before the device was slid into the confines of her backpack.

**You'll do great! I love you!  
**_received 8:42 am_

Received just a second ago.

Dipping her chin to her chest, a faint chuckle huffing through her teeth, Kaze looped her arms through each strap of her bag, a pair of ghost grey runners dangling on the tips of her index and middle fingers as she straightened. Lax and casual that opposed the drum in her chest.

_'You little cheek.'_

Leave it to Hisae to unknowingly shoot down her silly thoughts with affection.

Putting one socked foot forward, Kaze let gravity take hold of her as it yanked her down from the edge of the skyscraper she was standing on.

And fell.

She has two minutes left until class starts.

She arrived six minutes later.

Tardiness—though a flaw she frowns at—was an occurrence Kaze always seem to fall back into in Seigi. It hadn't started that way, but it had grown into becoming a part of her reputation that, eventually, she lost all care on punctuality. She had no reason to stop when all the lessons fell flat and the teachers themselves would hardly breathe the effort to care either, simply just letting her assume her seat with a false warning on their tongue.

But getting into UA meant that behavior would have to be extinguished—hacked and buried ten feet below the earth.

That in itself was as obvious as the glare of the sun, yet old habits tend to die slow.

This morning, Kaze woke up when the sky was still a powdery purple and blue, a strike of pink at the horizon to signal the upcoming rise of the sun. Her usual time to rise. Then to battle away the peculiar somersaults in the pit of her gut, Kaze had subconsciously gone off to her normal routine: taking ten minutes to shower; spending five to haul all the things she needed for this day in her school bag, then with a brief glance over her still unorganized room, she went down to eat.

Admittedly, it had been foolish of her to expect Hanabi to greet her with a grin and a plate of some mouthwatering meal when she reached the kitchen. It hadn't crossed Kaze's mind that she'll be missing the blonde's cooking until then.

But she wasn't there.

No Aohei to solve yesterday's crossword in the newspaper whilst she ate.

No Takumi to ruffle her hair as he joined the table.

No Hisae to steal bits of her breakfast.

And no Haru and Kouyou to walk with to school.

Needless to say, Kaze's breakfast was less than satisfactory with a halfhearted piece of toast she made before jamming it into her mouth as soon as it cooled down, swallowing the tasteless bite before promptly setting off with the wind. She spent all the time she had next lingering over the city, finding another skyscraper to stay, then decided to skip the ceremony too.

She called them last night. Why was she still fidgeting like a damned toddler?

Now, as Kaze landed silently before the entrance, she stifled her frustration with a sigh through her nose. She looked up at this perfect, gleaming _school _with a frown.

It hasn't even been a day.

"Uchiki."

Startled, Kaze glanced to the side to see no other than Aizawa Shouta walking up to her, dark eyes heavily lidded with his scowl and pale lips dragged down into a frown.

She stiffened.

"Pray tell,"—stopping just two feet before her, Aizawa let his gaze drop to her shoeless feet, a brow twitching at the hazardous state of her uniform before zeroing back to her face—"What are you doing standing in front of the entrance, seven minutes late _and _without wearing shoes."

Kaze idly set down her runners at his words, wiggled her black socked-feet in, then straightened.

"I need my toes free to maneuver with the wind, sir."

A brow twitched.

"That's not really the question I asked." Resisting the urge to drag a hand down his face (purely unprofessional), Aizawa gingerly placed his hands into the pockets of his pants, gaze still narrowed—agonizingly so—with his mouth screwed in meager disapproval. "You should be in class by now."

Kaze took a quick moment to steal a glance at the sun's position at the cloudless sky. "So should you be. Sir."

A brow twitched again.

With a blink, Kaze felt her eyes widen, lips parting as she registered the comment that came from her without even thinking.

_'Crap.'_

Kaze mentally shook her head, the frustration in her gut curling into another kind of ire—yet it didn't entirely matter. The reason was different, yet the object to her grueling emotion remained the same.

Her.

This wasn't Seigi, Kaze had to remind herself that. She couldn't brush aside her disobedience with a few choices of words anymore, nor should she even consider doing so. The teachers here were different.

They cared. They put in their effort. They went out of their way.

She didn't have to shove her way around just to get a _real _opportunity to learn like she did to land that internship with Gang Orca.

Dipping her head, Kaze offered a small bow. "I apologize. That won't happen again."

Humming a low sound in the base of his throat, Aizawa scowled. "For the cheek, or for the tardiness?"

"For the cheek." Standing back to her height, Kaze hefted her bag higher on her shoulder. "And as for the tardiness, today will be the only time."

And she meant that.

Kaze had to pin that thought permanently in her head. She wasn't in Seigi now. This was UA.

Different. Better.

_'Behave,' _she said to herself. And she will.

. . . At least, to the best of her abilities.

Silent in his observation and clueless to her wordless scolding to herself, Aizawa stood back, hands still in his pockets and his glare still fixed. However, he lowered his chin until his coils hid his pursed lips, raven eyes regarding the transferee with a tilted head, as if a different angle would grace him more answers to a nonexisting question. But he saw none.

Nothing other than what he sees now.

Aizawa carefully fisted his hands hidden in his pockets and he wondered again—how come the world decided to circle himself back to her? Like most of his students from last year, she was exceptional in her own right. But she did more than that.

She surprised him—in more ways than one.

Aizawa felt the muscles on his cheeks settle as his frown eased, neutral as the girl herself. Boring deep into those red eyes, he wondered if his theory was in line with the way she spoke to him with a straight line to her spine; her words decidedly punctuated and her chin ever so set.

He wondered.

"Let's go." Aizawa turned, leading the way with brisk steps. "I'll take you to your class."

Nodding, Kaze had no difficulty in matching his stride. "Yes, Shouta-sensei."

A twitch.

Stubbornly keeping his lips shut, Aizawa silently sighed to himself, his gaze hidden by a strand of inky hair as he glanced to his side, where Uchiki Kaze walked at ease next to him. Not behind him as most students would, but next to his side as if there was nowhere else to go.

He wondered if the honorific towards _him _was a one-time phenomenon, because Midnight was certainly not addressed as a _sensei _to her. Maybe not now.

Maybe not ever.

_"Uchiki Kaze is a girl who considers everyone and anyone as no one until proven different."_

Those were the words of Tanaka Daichi, sixteenth principal of Seigi Academy—describing in clipped yet detailed sentences in a letter just to prepare UA for their new student.

Not that it matters. Aizawa could hazard a guess as to why this girl had developed a rough attitude towards her superiors.

It wasn't a problem that could easily be solved with a few clichéd sermons after all.

But somehow, he was different.

To her, he was someone.

Aizawa frowned.

"Just so you know, I don't care if you said that this will be the last time you'll be late. If I catch you one more time, then you'll be going home sooner than you expect." Tilting his head with his nose slightly in the air, Aizawa gave the girl one last sneer as a warning. "I expected Seigi would at least fix this kind of behavior."

"I figured." She nodded to his threat, surprisingly complacent—all except for the slight edge to her stare all of the sudden. "And don't generalize Seigi. Daichi-kouchou is different from the others."

Aizawa didn't respond, choosing to wordlessly drag his gaze back forward. Finished.

Satisfied that his theory was proven right then and there.

As a pro-hero, Aizawa had his respects towards Seigi for its rich history. But as a teacher, he could never forgive how the institution has stooped so low that they had grown to be so indifferent towards their students' growth. In Seigi's standards, someone like Uchiki must be unparalleled. A miracle in all its right who became their last salvation to save their name. However, because of that very reason, they became too lenient towards her.

Too passive that it had hindered her own progress—and she knew it.

Aizawa wouldn't blame her for appearing late in classes or skipping them altogether if those classes only made her stagnant in her development. The only person who berated her—pushed her past her limits and nagged on her every violation—was Tanaka Daichi.

And he earned her respect.

Aizawa felt his shoulders sag, a cloud of interest fogging his mind the more he analyzed Uchiki Kaze's behavior.

He'll best be looking forward to her performance.

"Here we are."

Stopping before the humongous door of class 2-A with a notable huff, Aizawa reached out for the handle before she could, playing blind to the curious look she gave as he tugged it open.

Twenty pairs of eyes plus one zeroed onto himself.

With his mouth beneath his coils, Aizawa chose not to look at his old students and focused on Midnight alone, stepping aside to show Uchiki with a concealed grunt.

"You left one brat behind, Midnight."

Both Midnight and Kaze twitched at his words.

"She wasn't in the ceremony. Was she with you?" Putting down the chalk she was pinching between her fingers, Midnight turned to face the two properly with a pat of her hands to rid of the powder. Stopping short, she looked up and down at the state of their new student.

"What happened to you?"

Blinking, a slow and arduous task, Aizawa slid his gaze back to the girl in question.

He hadn't really cared at the sight of Uchiki's loose tie, untucked dress shirt and her open blazer with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Then with the fluffy condition of her hair, her very appearance was a clear indication as to where she had been.

Uchiki looked like she'd been swallowed by vacuum and was spat back out.

Aizawa looked away. "I take responsibility for her tardiness today."

"What?" Confused, Midnight began to argue, blue eyes following Kaze as she silently bowed an inch, then went to the lone seat available. "Aizawa—"

"She's excused." Giving Midnight one final nod to signal the end of their exchange, Aizawa chanced another look towards Kaze—saw her settle down on the last seat in the second column behind Bakugo with her elbows on her desk—then pivoted on his foot.

He left in pursuit of his sleeping bag.

Midnight opened her mouth, shut it, then clenched her teeth. A growl built up in the back of her throat as she stomped her way towards the door to close it.

With the tension between the two teachers temporarily seizing the room, no one was able to catch the way Kaze's gaze linger at the now closed door even as Midnight forced herself to resume her lecture.

No one did.

Except one.

* * *

"Oh my, you must be the transferee!"

Startled out of her musings, Kaze idly brought her gaze up with a tilt of her head, lips puckered in confusion as a man garbed in a pristine white chef's uniform—plus the hat and a tube-like mask—greeted her from behind the counter.

"How did you know?" She asked, hesitant at the man's brightly energetic demeanor despite having his expressions hidden.

Wagging a gloved finger, the man gestured towards himself with a flourish. "I'm Lunch Rush! Serving the students their lunch everyday sort makes it difficult not to remember their faces." Chuckling to himself, Lunch Rush set his gaze back on her (she assumed he did, it was hard without seeing his face). "Plus, the whole school has probably heard of you by now. We haven't had a transferee in ages! It's nice to meet you."

Kaze blinked, mouth parted open.

Lunch Rush.

Lunch Rush's Cafeteria.

Eyes mildly widening at the realization, Kaze accepted the hand the man was offering and shook once, lips spreading into an easy smile despite the implication of his words ringing loud in her head.

Was she really that noteworthy?

"Uchiki Kaze." Her smile inched higher. "It's nice to meet you too."

"Well then, Uchiki-san," lowering his hand back to his side, Lunch Rush waved a zealous hand over his menu, his grin evident on his voice. "What would you like to have? Over here is what most kids usually order, or you would like to have something different altogether?"

Perking up at the prospect, Kaze was quick to nod, especially after her disastrous breakfast. The list of meals she could see all sounded mouthwatering, and she had no doubts that they all are one tasted. The few displayed behind the counter all looked far too tempting as well, but with the way the homesick feeling continued to gnaw at her thoughts, she wanted—_needed_—something familiar. Like the taste of home.

Kaze sagged to herself, grinning. "Something different, if you don't mind."

Requesting something different from his menu would be fine, right? Besides, if he was willing, then who was she to deny?

"Of course not!" Giddy, Lunch Rush swung his arms to the side, fingers deftly clutching his spatulas, knives, and paddles with gusto. "What would you like to have?"

Amused at the way he beckoned a challenge (if it was even called that), Kaze attempted to bite back a chuckle. "Okonomiyaki, if you please. Osaka style."

"Oh?" Cocking his head, the man set to work, the top of his chef's hat bowing as he moved. "You already seem to know what you want before even choosing. Is it a favorite?"

"It is." Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, Kaze's grin morphed into a smirk as her gaze followed Lunch Rush's hands, her interest peaked the more she observed his quick actions; preparing a meal that usually takes minutes in just seconds flat.

His hands were a blur before her eyes, an observation that was oddly hypnotic to watch. Heat warmed her cheeks that came from his sizzling grill by the counter, then a second later, the smell hit.

Delicious. Succulent. Savory.

Kaze swallowed, tongue timidly swiping over her lips just to make sure she wasn't drooling.

A bell dinged, then one steel tray holding her meal was handed to her, the okonomiyaki steaming with a mouthwatering aroma that tickled her nostrils in powerful waves. And to Kaze, it couldn't have been any more perfect—mesmerized by the crisp of the cabbage and the delectable honey-brown shade of the pancake. The gleam of the meat toppings peeking between the impeccable lines of mayo and sauce caused another clench of her awaiting stomach, unwittingly provoking her for another hearty inhale—and she did.

She swallowed again.

"Thank you for the meal." Exchanging her pay for the food, Kaze gave one last cheeky grin towards the chef, a brow quirking at the two squares of castella at the side of her dish.

She didn't ask for those.

"I asked your previous principal about your preferred food." Lunch Rush leaned back as he answered her unsaid question, the smile in his voice notable that had the corners of her own lips hiking up higher. "He didn't really know, but he mentioned your love for sweets. Take it as a little welcoming gift from me."

Mentally chuckling at his explanation (Daichi was just the type of person to scurry around making sure everything was all right when something or someone would be leaving his care), Kaze showed her gratitude with an incline of her head.

_'He's generous_._'_ "Thank you so much for your kind gesture. You didn't have to do that."

"No problem, and it's all fine. Besides, it's just castella." Waving her off with a mischievous thumbs up, Lunch Rush straightened, voice still giddy and upbeat as he faced the next student in line whilst Kaze turned away, not wanting to keep the line even though she had the odd impulse to talk more to the chef.

He had quite a sweet charisma.

And his cooking was a magnet.

Shaking those thoughts out of her head, Kaze absentmindedly settled on an empty table, eyes still locked on her sweets whilst her stomach clenched at the prospect of a proper meal. The smell itself rivaled even that of Hanabi's cooking, and for that, Kaze snapped her chopsticks in two, eyes round as she poked at the soft texture.

The first bite was heaven.

Cheeks dusting pink, a low hum vibrated from her chest and Kaze smiled. She wasn't expecting much when it came to UA's cafeteria, having been focused on its system rather than its miscellaneous benefits. But she could definitely give a nod for first impressions.

Hunching her shoulders forward, Kaze took another bite.

And another.

Then another—her clump bigger and desperate to shove it all in her mouth.

Kaze made a noise at the back of her throat, eyes slipping closed at the texture melting on her tongue. Lunch Rush made it _better _than Hanabi's (she wouldn't tell her that) and for that reason alone (plus her hunger), Kaze tried to lift her jittery expectations on her days in UA. Lunch Rush was a kind gentleman and his cooking made her want to go for seconds (perhaps she will), and she had learned far too early that the tiniest sprouts of comfort were more than often enough to go by.

And she has _castella._

Giddy and satisfied, Kaze subconsciously let her straight posture fall as she ate, ignorant to the strand of hair that slipped past her ear. Within that sliver of a moment, she failed to catch the tray that quietly slid across from hers.

She did, however, caught the quiet snap of wood breaking.

"Hm?" Mouth full, Kaze cocked her head up an inch, chopsticks paused on her lips as she arched a brow at the newcomer. Red gaze met startled dark ones, a pair of chopsticks held frozen in his tight grip as she regarded him—and he regarded _her._

She hadn't heard his approach.

Narrowing her eyes, Kaze frowned to herself.

The newcomer was a boy. A tall boy with a wide built that almost seemed looming if it weren't for the way he had his shoulders bunched close to his chin, a look of a deer caught in headlights adorning his strange features with his fingers still unyielding around the chopsticks he now held close to his chest. Cautious and meek—as if a mere flick of an action from her would send him cowering in a corner.

Slowly, Kaze swallowed the food in her mouth, unfolding from her hunched position akin to a sloth raising from its slumber.

The boy had undeniably disturbed her quiet lunch, but then again, she doesn't own all the chairs and tables in the cafeteria. She just assumed no one wanted to sit close to some random newbie who had, unknowingly, broken a piece of their system. She didn't mind having a neighbor to sit with at the moment, though with the tension coiled in his limbs, Kaze could deduce that he was more than unsure.

A glance around the cafeteria told her enough that the boy didn't have a lot of options to sit.

"It's okay," Kaze eventually murmured, stiffly making a vague gesture with her chopsticks in an effort to ease his discomfort. "I don't mind."

The boy blinked, eyes still wide yet notably relaxing. Slowly—a move so soft and timid that it came as a small dip of his head—he nodded, shifting on his seat as he went about picking on his rice.

Kaze looked down, then back up again. "What's your name?"

The boy flinched. Not quite violently, though not quite subtly either. The way he shifted again on his seat told Kaze enough that he wasn't quite sure how to interact with her at all.

Or to anyone. Maybe.

Or maybe just towards her.

Nonchalant, Kaze gave a grunt, planting her attention back of her food before taking another bite. She told herself that she didn't care, that a simple denial to a conversation was beneath any trivial concerns. After all, hadn't she denied curious attempts to talk from her previous in Seigi before?

It was fine.

The boy cocked his head, confusion wrinkling his brows when Kaze pushed no further at his lack of response. It was rare for people not to follow another question to probe at his awkward social interaction, yet she didn't.

Though guilty at the thought that he may have offended her, he smiled. Tight yet grateful, to Kaze's mild surprise.

Returning the smile, Kaze resumed her meal.

A few seconds later, the boy began to eat as well.

She chewed.

He chewed.

She picked.

He picked.

Amused, Kaze lowered her head, hiding her curbed grin by the curtain of her hair. His chosen method to spend lunch was more than preferable to her, though it was obvious he had hoped to have gone unnoticed by the way he had squeaked himself on a seat two seats across from her to her right. That was fine. Kaze was good with silence.

Silence often equaled to effortless companionship.

And judging by the way the stiffness to his movements faded, he seemed to think the same.

Chancing a glance, Kaze arched her brows, a full-blown grin showing when she caught him ducking his head so fast it could've caused whiplash.

_'Silly guy.'_

She chuckled, amused. And the boy must have detected no malice nor mockery with the way she laughed because when Kaze touched her lips with her knuckles, he slumped, lips twisted sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. A strange shape too, his head. His skin was a fleshy-peach in color, almost too soft to stare at—but the jagged tip of his rock-shaped head was a clear contrast to his apparent softness.

Rough on the outside. Mush on the inside.

A perfect opposite of her.

". . . S-Sorry."

Startled that he chose to speak, Kaze smothered her chuckles with a well-mannered grin. Crooked, but a well-mannered grin.

Even his voice was soft. Innocent.

"It's fine," she said, shrugging a shoulder. "Don't worry."

The boy nodded, a hand idly pushing the chopsticks around his food before he paused again. "Uhm. . . Uchiki Kaze. . . right?"

"Yeah." Kaze went back to take another bite. "That's me. Why?"

"N-Nothing." Shoulders bunching yet again, the boy took in a shaky inhale, then raised his chopsticks again to his mouth to resume his meal. It was a simple motion, one done in repetition, yet this one was different—from the slightest change in his wrist and the width of his chest. A decided action that cut a layer within the atmosphere, as if his choice to somewhat resume in nonchalance coaxed an air of familiarity to bloom between them.

Kaze eyed the way he relaxed, satisfied.

"What's your name?" She asked again, and this time, she had the pleasure of a tiny grin thrown at her way. Still timid, but better.

"My n-name's Koda Koji. We're classmates."

"We are?"

"Y-Yes."

"I didn't see you last night."

"Well," clearing his throat, the boy—Koda Koji, he said—gave a wry grin. A mix between exasperation and amusement then topped with that natural timidness he seemed to emit. "M-Midnight-sensei did take most of your attention last night. . ."

At that, Kaze let her smirk fall, nose bunching at the reminder of what happened last night; of the mild humiliation she received for being shamelessly scolded in front of her new classmates until the plate of food she was sneakily having the wind float towards her was within her hand and she bolted, ignoring the enraged shout from her teacher in favor of spending the rest of her evening in her room.

With an uncharacteristic pout on her lips, Kaze scoffed, eyes rolling before going back to her food. "Damn Nemuri."

Koda suddenly stiffened, eyes bulged wide that quickly had Kaze alarmed. Yet before she could even reach out a hand to help (did he choked?!), Koda decided to give her another surprise.

He laughed.

Kaze stilled, stupefied—a hand uselessly dangling in the air with the remnants of her shock rigidly curling her fingers.

He laughed.

A low and chortling laugh. Not quite loud, not quite mellow either. Koda laughed with his tongue against his teeth and a flush of red darkening the flesh pallor of his cheeks, like he himself couldn't believe he was laughing.

But he was.

Kaze didn't even know when she lowered her arm, nor did she realized when a chuckle slipped past her shock.

But sure enough, she was joining him in his giggles.

Kaze shook her head, fingers idly brushing away the short strands falling over her left eye. Their laughter faded gradually, finding their short escape from their sanity not even budging the reality around them. Koda had ducked his head back when his giggles evaporated into silence, yet there was a soft smile curling his lips this time. The sight was almost adorable, like a kitten hiding between their paws.

Kaze grinned.

All at once, a brazen feeling licked deep in her gut. Bold and pronounced and giving her an inkling that maybe—just maybe—she could actually gain a companion. The idea had always felt so foreign to her before, seeing as she only had her family, and her family was all that she would ever need. Kaze was certain, the belief set deep into her brain akin to a diamond stuck deep within the earth's confines.

She can have a friend.

Yet, just as the concept sounded so appealing, Kaze felt the uncertainty clawing at her chest. Friends were so easily discarded. She'd seen friendships being forged and broken so many times that it became a circus for a cycle. That vulnerability felt so fragile, so frightening.

Just because someone like Koda Koji can handle the silence with a detachment for words like her, doesn't make it any easier. Nor better.

Kaze sobered, yet before she could even throw in her gamble, her ears chose that moment to catch wind of the snippets drifting near them. Near her.

Scowling in concern, Koda popped open his mouth to question the sudden shift in her demeanor—when he heard it too.

And withered.

"That's her?"

"Yeah, that's the newbie they've been talking about in the second year. I don't know her name though."

Blinking out her haze, Kaze dully brought her gaze up beneath thick lashes, the tips of her chopsticks pausing at her lips as she swallowed, ears perked at the passing students who thought they were whispering.

Lowering her head, she forced her teeth to chew.

Koda glanced at her in concern.

"She doesn't look much though."

"I know right? For the first time since forever, UA gets a transferee and I expected someone—well—someone not like _that_."

A finger twitched and a scowl grew. With her grip threatening the state of her chopsticks, Kaze narrowed her eyes towards nothing—tension choking her limbs as the taste of her lunch became stale.

"I guess so."

"I heard she's from Seigi too."

"No way! That trash school?!"

Trash school.

Koda paled.

"Wow. She's not gonna last in UA."

Subconsciously, Kaze sent her silent gratitude towards Gang Orca, who had done wonders for teaching her how to keep her temper in check. But most of all—as she set her chopsticks on the side with a splinter running down its side akin to a bolt of lightning—she mourned for her previous principal.

Those idiots could belittle her for all she cared, but she could not—no matter how subpar the institution really was—condone those morons for _shaming_ the school her Daichi-kouchou has cared for with pride.

_'Don't start.' _

She pushed back her chair.

_'Don't start.'_

She craned her neck to look.

"Hey."

_'Don't start on your first day.'_

Jaw clenched in an effort to rein in her anger, Kaze idly slipped her hand free from Koda's panicked grasp on the table, gaze flicking towards those responsible—two boys with reptilian features notable on their skin—with a sharp inhale.

"Do you know how to whisper?"

She watched as they flinched in shock, their beady eyes widening before they settled back into a loose sneer.

"What did you say, brat?"

He didn't bother to lower his voice now, though Kaze hardly cared. Judging from his more defined stature and superior air, he was older. A senior then, with dark features and clawed nails. The other one appeared similar enough, except that his hair was a dusty shade of brown and was notably slimmer. Must be related.

"U-U-Uchiki-san—!"

Kaze scoffed to herself, cutting off whatever warning Koda was going to spew. From the corner of her eyes, she witnessed a few more heads of her classmates peering in concern. No doubt matching the dread painted all over Koda's face.

"You must've gone deaf. Let me repeat what I said." She jutted her chin, thoroughly aware that her cocky swirl of words challenged their bloated egos. "Do you _know _how to whisper, dickheads?"

Against herself, Kaze remembered all the times Takumi, Hanabi and even Daichi-kouchou had warned for talking back to her seniors. It was disrespectful—downright frowned upon.

Seniors were looked up to by the young simply because they had paved the way for younger generations.

"_Why you—_"

She didn't grow up that way though.

Which was why when one of the seniors puffed his chest—nostrils flaring and fists shaky as his arms flexed—Kaze had no remorse for tugging on the little bit of wind that slithered within the area with a twitch of her pinky, letting the pink slab of air blow them a few feet away with a slap on their faces, tailbones clacking painfully against the occupied table behind them with a yelp between their teeth.

The jostle of their body hitting the table killed the buzz in the cafeteria. The force she used was far from strong. Kaze knew better than that.

A warning would have to do.

Nodding to herself, Kaze picked up her discarded chopsticks again. "There, now you can whisper as much as you want."

The area around them was stunned, no doubt affected by the scene before them. A demonstration so entirely opposite to the heroic reputation they keep. Kaze paid them no mind, stiffly ducking her head and masking her disappointment by shoving more food into her mouth.

Even a school like UA has jocks like them.

She tried to convince herself that the shock on Koda's face did not affect her at all.

"UCHIKI!"

Frowning, Kaze straightened yet again, not bothering to rid of her mild displeasure this time when she saw her new homeroom teacher saunter in, face tight in disapproval that bellied the steel in her eyes.

_'Great.' _She scoffed. "What is it, Nemuri?"

Midnight narrowed her eyes behind her mask. Scanning the area, she tipped her chin and that was enough for any prying eyes to look away in shame.

"Excuse us, Koda-kun," Midnight excused with a smile towards the boy. Then with a quick switch from a smile to a glare, she motioned for Kaze to follow. "Come with me."

Kaze looked down at her lunch. "I'm not yet done."

"I don't care, get up."

"But Lunch Rush—"

"_Now._"

Pale lips thinned, irked. Kaze held Midnight's stare for a moment, unwilling to waste such a meal when she was far from satisfied. Not to mention, the castella was waiting for her. Lunch Rush had made this as a form of an embrace to welcome her, and so far, his attitude has been the brightest of _anyone_ greeting her so far.

But Midnight wouldn't budge.

"Uhm, M-Midnight-sensei, Uchiki-san didn't—"

"It's fine, Koji." Sighing through her nose, Kaze pushed herself up without bothering to look at Koda, her head held high along with a glare thrown at the side towards the two boys responsible.

They had their arms crossed, grins far too smug and irritating to the eyes.

"Ito, Watanabe. Both of you come too."

Kaze stole their grins with her own.

"Let's go." Pivoting on her foot, Midnight began leading the way, midnight tresses swishing as her hips swooped.

Silent, Kaze followed the woman, shoulders eased despite the numerous pairs of eyes drilling at the back of her head, Koda included. Behind her, the two boys—dubbed as Ito and Watanabe by Midnight, though Kaze had no idea which is which—walked with stiff gaits, their scowls prominent and their frowns weighed by gravity. Kaze didn't bother talking to them, their sense of unease evident even to her.

When they reached the staff's office, Midnight led them in, closing the door once all three of them had gotten inside.

"What's this?"

Recognizing the sweet voice of the principal's, Kaze chose not to waste time as she looked down, boring right into the principal_—her_ principal's beady eyes.

"I was disturbed from my lunch twice, Nedzu."

Teachers eating by their table audibly choked. Whether it was by her reply or her shamelessly addressing the principal's name so casually, Kaze couldn't decide.

Nedzu cocked his head, an ear twitching as he eyed the two seniors that just came in. "Is that so, Uchiki-san? Do explain."

Nodding her consent, Kaze made to answer, yet before the words formed on her tongue, she was jerked back when one of the boys—the one who had puffed his chest and sneered at her—stepped forward with a not-so-accidental shove of his shoulder.

"Kouchou-sensei, she was the one who had used her quirk against us with the intention of harm, which is strictly against the rules!" Waving his hand to prove his point, he pushed on. "As expected of someone from Seigi, she's ignorant towards firm policies pla—"

A hand gripped his elbow. Tight and bruising, digging without remorse and severe.

Kaze gave a rigid clench to yank his attention towards her, and when he did, shocked and pale, he stiffened at the blood-red eyes glaring at him with her brows severely pinched together.

"I don't know your name, but, as a _senpai_—" she spat the honorific with all the disdain she could muster. "—aren't you supposed to be a role model towards us?"

The boy blanched further, futilely fighting his unease with a clench of his jaw. "Let me go!"

"I have no respect for liars." Wrinkling her nose, Kaze dropped her hold on him, as if the very touch was poisonous filth beneath her nails. "You spoke of Seigi as if it was dirt, and though I have half a mind of agreeing with you, the man who runs it is far from a man you could _ever _hope to become." Scoffing at his idiotic expression, she glanced at the other one, who flinched at the intensity of her gaze.

_'Good.'_

Eyes flicking back towards Nedzu, Kaze fought the grimace on her lips. "I won't deny that I used my quirk, but I hardly see either of you hurt_. _Or are UA's third-years a bunch of pathetic wusses that a tiny shove injures their souls? What a bunch of p—"

"Uchiki."

Clamping her mouth shut, Kaze dropped her gaze at the hand on her shoulder.

"That's enough."

Kaze smudged her lips together, yet obeyed Midnight with a sigh through her nose.

"Fine."

Keeping her eyes on her student, Midnight shot a subtle yet heavy look towards Nedzu, the reproach in her eyes melting away with a thin frown. As his response, Nedzu nodded, a flick of his tail being the only clue to his own aversion, to which he directed it towards the two males.

So much trouble for just the first day.

"Ito-kun, Watanabe-kun, I can't deny that Uchiki-san's clear disobedience to the rules is an issue, just as you mentioned."

The boys perked.

"An issue that's quite common, anyways. Especially for any hero school." Nedzu finished, the natural smile on his muzzle becoming strained. "I've seen students use them from time to time whether on purpose or not, and as high school students, especially students of the Hero Department, we are more often than not exempted from that rule due to our course. So truly, it is quite a weak rebuke for you to say that, Ito-san. UA relies on freedom first and foremost, or have you boys forgotten?"

The boy, Ito, sputtered, cheeks stained with embarrassment as his confidence drained away.

Even then, Kaze didn't let her relief show.

"What? But, kouchou-sensei—"

"Uchiki-san implied she did so for your lack of respect towards her old school. Do you deny that?"

He didn't answer.

"Do you _deny _that?"

Ashamed, Ito lowered his head in submission, fists trembling with the teachers witnessing his disgrace. "N-No."

Setting his gaze aside, Nedzu set his paws on his back and met the other senior's lowered gaze. "How about you, Watanabe-san?"

Lips tugged into a frown, Watanabe flicked his dark gaze towards Kaze, a muscle on his cheek jumping when she met his eyes steadily.

He looked away. "I don't deny it, Nedzu-kouchou."

"Good." Tail curling at the tip, Nedzu backed away. "I expect you two to contribute two-weeks worth of community service. I will personally assign the tasks to the both of you, and during that time, you are detained from attending your internships. Do you understand?"

Kaze watched as the two went ashen, the protest sitting on their lips when they seemed to think better of it. Defeated, they gave the principal a nod. Taut and rigid, but a nod nonetheless.

"I hope you'll reflect on your immature actions today. You may leave."

"Yes, kouchou-sensei!"

With a deep bow from the waist, the boys straightened their spines and walked out of the room with shredded dignity. Yet before they left, they gave one last glance towards Kaze.

The door clicked shut, leaving behind a quiet room with a strained atmosphere.

Leaving _her _behind.

Feeling oddly timid all of a sudden, Kaze went to face Midnight with furrowed brows. "What am I still doing here?"

Instead of providing her with a decent reply, Midnight tilted her head towards Nedzu.

"Where is it, kouchou-sensei?"

"At the back." Waving a paw at the general direction, Nedzu switched his attention back to Kaze yet again, this time harboring an apologetic smile on his muzzle that bellied the disappointment in his eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Uchiki-san."

Looking back down at the principal again, Kaze thinned her lips. She couldn't blame him for the actions of his students, just as she couldn't blame Tanaka Daichi for the inefficiency of his staff and the naive bubble most of his students seem to live in. No matter how much those seniors annoyed her, their words of mockery held truth. All except for the taunt towards her.

Ridicules weren't new to her. No words could ever hold a candle to the degradation she and her family received in her childhood. Then aside from those, Kaze had been receiving insults since the time she first began school at the age of eleven—taunted for her lack of social cues and awkward fumblings.

She was also a late bloomer when it came to manifesting her quirk, and because of it, her initial control towards it was clumsy. Humiliatingly so.

She was ridiculed for that too.

It was easy to conclude then and there that nothing would ever change. There was not a lot of good people, and those who were had probably been trampled on by those like Ito and Watanabe. Kaze wasn't expecting anything different now, not even for UA. She came here simply for Eraserhead—to learn under the hero who had given her and her family a second chance in life.

Anything else hardly matters.

"It's fine." Kaze gave a stern nod, her voice clipped and final that had Nedzu frowning in concern.

He chose not to probe.

"Well then," curbing back his sigh, Nedzu flicked his tail again. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to look for me."

"Sure."

As the principal left—mumbling incoherent words to himself—Kaze caught the eye of one teacher, one with a peculiar style of hair that stood into a towering tuff akin to a cockatoo's. He arched one thin brow when she held his gaze behind those square shades perched on his nose, amusement clear in his loose grin that had Kaze wondering what she had done to evoke such reaction.

Before she could question the man, Midnight promptly urged her to follow towards the direction Nedzu had indicated.

"Come on." Midnight gestured with her head. "Your next class starts in fifteen minutes."

"You owe me lunch."

Instead of becoming miffed at her tone, Midnight preened with glee, her grin sharp and eyes far too mischievous for Kaze to appreciate. "Remind me to repay the debt some time then, yes?" Throwing the girl a quick wink, Midnight didn't bother waiting for the former to answer and went ahead.

Huffing her ire, Kaze fell behind Midnight as they went towards the back of the office, where a narrow door stood at the far corner. She let the heroine open the door, revealing it to be a sort of storeroom for cases upon cases primly organized to perfection.

It was bigger than expected. The room.

Kaze furrowed her brows, taking in the appearance of the room with parted lips. It was clear that the place was dutifully looked out for, judging by the lack of stains and dust upon the neutral paint of the walls and on the marble floor. The size itself was fairly decent, perhaps half as spacious as the faculty office, with five aisles of steel shelves keeping those thick cases mentioned prior. And as she took a further step inside, Kaze found that each aisle was labeled with a number from one to three overhead, with the first one being the only one devoid of cases.

Confused, she saved the question for the numbers for later as she went ahead, skipping the second aisle where Midnight strolled into and headed straight for the last.

_'This one's the fullest.' _Raising a curious hand, Kaze traced the thick '**A**' labeled on the foremost beam of the shelf on the right side of the aisle set on eye-level. When she glanced at the left, she saw the letter '**B**' engraved on its shelf too.

Kaze hummed, finally finding the answer to her initial confusion. "Each aisle is designated for each year, aren't they?"

"They are." Though muffled, Midnight's reply was loud and clear. "Organized by class too, class A on the right then B on the left."

_'I thought so.' _Nodding to herself, Kaze drifted her hand away from the engraved letter and traced the side of the case nearest to her. Each case was separated from the next by a thin beam, and underneath each case was a tag marked with yet another number. _'Must be the student number.'_

"Come here, Uchiki."

Kaze dropped her hand, her gaze lingering at the cases no doubt meant for the third years. Some of the spaces were blank, and she wondered if those two boys' cases were here. Then again, she wasn't sure which department they were in. And judging by seeing only **A** and **B** here, this room was specifically constructed for the students of the Hero Department only.

"What is it?" Rounding at the end of the aisle, Kaze went to Midnight's side, a brow quirking at the case the latter held with a large font of number seven on its grey surface.

Handing the case to her, Midnight urged for Kaze to open it. "This room is where the students' costumes are placed that went through an intense repair or a complete upgrade. Usually, the students are the ones who approach the Support Department for an upgrade, which is supervised by Power Loader." Waving a hand over the few cases sitting on the shelves, Midnight prepped her other hand on her waist. "When those upgrades get done, the students can get them back from the Support Department, but if it's a complete reconfiguration, they get sent here when it's done."

Kaze looked down at her case, recalling the time she was questioned about her costume after her exam and interview; mostly being probed about the adjustments needed to abide by the rules of her quirk. Afterwards, Nedzu had politely requested (an order disguised with a 'please', really) for her to send her uniform from when she was in Seigi—and she did so the day after that, with Gang Orca excusing her from interning with him since the day they talked.

UA never gave her uniform back when she sent it. Until now.

"I assumed mine went through an update?"

"No," Midnight said, smug. "We replaced it with a new one."

Kaze nearly dropped the case at her shock.

Replaced.

Her costume was _replaced_.

"Come again?"

Undeterred to the audacity dripping on her tongue, Midnight scoffed with a roll of her eyes. Wordlessly, she took back the case from Kaze and propped it on an empty space. "I don't want to speak ill of Seigi, but to be honest, the support company that sponsored them last wasn't giving them the best service. Far from decent, even." She mumbled the last part to herself, though she was aware that Kaze heard it for herself.

"That's why," Midnight popped the case open, taking out the first garment with a slightly exaggerated pull. "We had to redo yours."

Hiding her grin at the wide-eyed look Kaze wore, Midnight handed the garment she pulled to the girl before reaching for the next one.

"We had a similar situation last year where we replaced one's costume entirely, though it was because he had his thoroughly destroyed. However, we didn't change much of the design for yours, just improved it."

Speechless, Kaze smoothed her thumb on the fabric in her grasp, slow and tentative as she digested the new feel as opposed to her old one. Newer. Easier.

A fabric crafted just for her.

Kaze couldn't quite grasp what she felt.

"You have your Hero Class next," Midnight gently took the suit from Kaze, lips tilted up as she rearranged both garments back into the case with careful hands. Then once that was done—snapping the locks in place—she offered the case to Kaze without qualms. "Let's try your new costume before heading there, shall we?"

Her nod may have been a little too eager, a little too shaky from the sparks turning in her stomach, but Midnight didn't mind. She was satisfied, actually.

The girl didn't need to know that Midnight herself was actually the one who had overseen the progress of her uniform. The look on Kaze's face was rewarding enough.

* * *

Try as she might deny it, Kaze was thoroughly enjoying her new costume so far.

. . . Perhaps, maybe _too much._

Definitely too much.

Curling her toes, Kaze did another set of hops, each time having the wind push her a foot higher and higher whilst grinning at how weightless she felt—not a drag of anything to hinder her movements aside from gravity itself.

She could most definitely go faster with these.

"Well, I can see that you like it." At her side, Midnight observed with keen eyes, hands akimbo as Kaze performed her stretches, testing out the kinks and pros of her costume with amusement tugging her smirk.

Kaze grinned, twisting her torso and stretching back her arms almost too wide. "Very."

_Very _would be an understatement.

As soon as she donned the costume, Kaze had already fallen in love with the fabric—beaming at the impossibly light feeling and the endless flexibility it allowed to her movements. The design was impeccable as well; smooth, elegant, and devilishly simple that fitted her preference just right. For one, the sleek form-fitting jumpsuit was streamlined to provide little resistance against the pull of the air—with the long sleeves continuing to merge as skintight gloves while the pantlegs continued to mask the shape of her feet and toes, a reinvented version of her suit's socks. The color itself was an intense swallow of black, yet against the prying rays of the sun, Kaze could detect the minor yet striking details to a fault, and she couldn't deny the wiggle of her giddy lips at the intricate pattern of scales creating a unique texture all over the suit.

Beautiful. Powerful.

_Perfect._

Kaze felt her grin grow. The overall sensation was quite similar to wearing a onesie. A tight and sleek onesie with two narrow stripes of metallic teal running down her sides and the inside of her arms to accentuate her figure, ending just below her knees at the stitch present in that area and at the inside of her elbows.

"Here," teeth peeking with her smile, Midnight handed the other half to Kaze's costume. "Try it with this one on now."

Kaze settled her arms down, having had to stop herself from tracing the 'scales' that gloved around her neck as a form of a mandarin collar. "All right."

The item Midnight held next was a jacket. A varsity jacket, to be exact, cropped at the waist and done with thin white hemmings at the bottom. Kaze cocked her head, curious. The jacket felt like an unnecessary addition at first glance with an appearance comparable to any typical varsity jacket—white at the sleeves, collar and at the thin hem at the end, then a melon-peach shade all over.

She paused.

White and peach.

Hisae's colors.

A lump bunched itself within Kaze's throat, her smile turning shaky at the reminder of her little niece. Thumbing at the cuffs of the sleeves once the garment was within her hands, she reasoned that wearing this would at least alleviate her yearning for her family. Metaphorically have them closer with her throughout her days as a means of reassurance.

She would like that.

Pushing her arms through the long sleeves of the jacket, Kaze shrugged it on, brought the front together to zip it up midway before setting down her hands.

And waited.

Mute, Kaze looked down, wide eyes staring disbelievingly.

_'How?'_

"It. . ." Tentatively rotating her shoulders—brows puckered along with the purse of her lips—Kaze frowned, then dragged her frozen gaze back to Midnight. "It feels like I'm not wearing _anything_ on top of the suit. I can't feel its weight."

Midnight hummed her approval, having hoped for that response as she waited for the verdict.

"That's because you _can't_. Or more specifically, there isn't any weight." Gesturing towards the jacket, Midnight crossed her arms, contemplative. "Both the suit and the jacket are combined with graphene aerogel, a material I've been told to be as light as air, which is why you can hardly feel any of its weight. Another material used is graphene, the strongest material to be ever created as of yet. So your costume is both unyielding and strong as iron, but weightless as air itself."

Giving a low hum to the explanation, Kaze held up her hands, blinking owlishly when she noticed that the black of her jumpsuit actually faded to white at the tips of her fingers. Curious, she brought one foot up, eyes widening even more when she saw that the soles were white too.

Her beam must resemble a child's by now.

Midnight shook her head, amused, before continuing more on her explanation. "You mentioned something about the wind often tearing your clothes or loosening the threads when we interviewed you before, which is why the graphene helps too. You won't have to worry about that anymore. Obviously, the suit and the jacket is also streamlined to battle against air resistance, therefore allowing you to be as quick as you can be."

"But what's the use for the jacket?"

"The jacket—" Midnight thinned her lips, giving Kaze a fleeting look to let her continue without pause. "—is a padding of sorts for your torso that would protect you from air pressure. Again, from your interview, you specifically mentioned that air pressure often concentrates on your upper half, thus the jacket was given."

"Why a jacket? I could have something simple like my old costume."

"Your _old_ costume looked far too plain. I personally think it's hideous. Now the jacket adds _style_, you should be thankful." Midnight gave a sniff, a faraway look in her eyes as if the very recollection of Kaze's initial costume was a disgrace against every belief she held. "On the other hand, there're some hidden pockets added inside to keep some basic medical supplies."

Kaze jolted up at that one, surprised. Curious, she pulled down the zipper before holding out either side of her jacket, noticing the subtle bubbled form of it whilst doing so—the very proof of the 'padding' Midnight had mentioned. Tearing her attention away from that, she wormed one hand inside, flinching when she found the line of a jagged zipper, camouflaged and small enough to be unnoticeable in both sight and feeling. Zipping it open and digging her hand inside also allowed Kaze to discover that the pocket had more room than expected, touching a hint of a bandage roll, the smooth hint of a bottle of what she assumed would be an antiseptic, and a box that she found to be some cold compress when she partly pulled it out to see.

"I didn't have that before," Kaze murmured, astonished, not even aware of when she pulled the zipper inside close before doing the same to her jacket, zipping it up to her collar instead of doing so halfway. "Heck, I didn't have a jacket before."

"I know," said Midnight solemnly. "Originally, you only had a jumpsuit and some chest armor in your old costume. Streamlined as requested, but it was heavy for you and often strain your movements as you said before, correct?"

". . . Yeah."

Midnight pursed her lips, blue eyes drifting closed as she released a soft exhale. "Your chest armor we found out was actually fragile to some medium when we were testing its capabilities. We can't have that, especially if it can cause unwanted accidents in the future." She shrugged, off-handed and casual, yet the tinge of incredulity was there.

And she was right.

Kaze looked down at her costume again, this time assessing it from a different angle. Her quirk was a strange one. A simple element, really, yet it brought a strange mechanism to command. Her eyes could follow the wind's movement, one that's entirely unseen to most people. She had a connection with it, like a distant call she could never fail to answer to.

But working with the wind, on the other hand, was an entirely different level.

The wind was feisty, free to blow whichever direction it pleases and however fierce or mellow it whims. Kaze hooks her control over it with her toes and fingers, but then wielding it to her advantage requires all of her muscles to work—akin to an aerial dancer tangling themselves around suspended ribbons to soar. Support items were always recommended to her at first, except that they went against the flow of the wind and all ended up becoming a hindrance rather than a convenience.

It was no use, Kaze had to resort to simpler designs. The less, the better—the best to do so to work with an element that has a mind of its own.

But this. . .

Kaze let her eyes flutter shut.

Once again, UA surprised her.

"Thank you."

Midnight twitched at her words, yet she had no words to respond with against the unexplainable gleam that hung over her student's eyes akin to a pliant film.

Midnight sighed through her nose.

Choosing not to tamper on the girl's show of gratitude, Midnight gave one final sweep of Kaze's appearance instead, a brow arched in approval towards the latter's physique. Her quirk required full-body motions for most of the time, and it showed in Kaze's appearance—her stature narrow yet lithe with firms thighs, a toned middle and defined biceps. Midnight had seen her move during her exam, and she could agree with Aizawa's critique about the girl being excessively creative—yet everything required heavy muscle work to achieve control.

And judging by her fluidity in her movements, Midnight already knew that Kaze has complete mastery over her quirk.

"Let's go." Stopping Kaze in mid-stretch, Midnight turned about and began walking towards the entrance of Ground Beta, having just paused before its gigantic doors earlier to give the former some time to test her costume. "All Might already has everyone working, but Aizawa and I will lend a hand today as well."

Piqued, Kaze looked up just as the erasure hero was mentioned. "What for?"

"More often than not," Midnight began. "More than one teacher supervise a hero class for any reason, excluding the assigned subject teacher for that class. This time—" blue eyes shot towards red. "—the reason centers is simply because of you."

Without meaning to, Kaze erred a stutter in her steps, lips pulling down into a thoughtful frown when she, out of the blue, recalled Lunch Rush's words from earlier.

He said that everyone (a loose term she decided not to dwell on) had heard about her—said that UA has gone through _ages_ without a transferee ever getting in.

Silent, Kaze wondered yet again—was she truly that _noteworthy? _She understood that she was from Seigi, yet it didn't seem enough to her to elicit such reactions from the majority.

Right?

"Why is everyone making such a big deal about a transferee?"

Abruptly halting in her gait, Midnight turned to face Kaze at her question, unbothered when the latter almost crashed against her back. The look she wore was void of humor, the scrutiny Kaze saw before when she was called for the interview resurfacing without regret nor shame.

And when she said her answer, Kaze understood.

"UA hasn't had a transferee for more than forty years, or so I've heard. No one has ever passed the transferee exam until you did. And that either means you're good enough, or Aizawa and I weren't doing our jobs properly."

Midnight hid the lick of glee that shivered her spine at the lack of color on Kaze's cheeks, an almost unnoticeable tremor rocking the girl's shoulders before it was controlled. "We'll pit you against your classmates for this class, then we'll see if we made the right decision," heaving a dry chuckle, she shook her head and turned away. "But expect Aizawa to join All Might more often than usual in his class. He did just expelled half of his class this morning."

Finished with her message, Midnight resumed their walk, not needing to look at the reaction she evoked with pleasure. Uchiki Kaze was a student with a strange personality. Then again, all of their students had their own lofty characteristics that made handling them in classes difficult. Midnight was no stranger to it all—as once a student of UA and serving as one of its current teachers for years, she was accustomed to the diversity it housed. Uchiki Kaze was just one of them.

Whether or not she will rise above others, only time could tell.

When they reached the area the rest of class 2-A was in within Ground Beta, there were already signs of recent use as they passed—scorched marks, skid marks, shattered windows, a street encased with ice and acid slowly evaporating a lamp post. Nothing was left unscathed, it seemed, especially at the blown over store Kaze spied tucked far from the tall buildings. Still, they didn't stop to examine, and Midnight eventually led her up inside a rather inconspicuous-looking building.

"This building holds one of the several control rooms we have in this ground. It's where we observe your performance down to the tiniest detail without being involved."

Kaze nodded at the explanation, not hesitating to take in all that could of her surroundings as they went down towards the basement. Ground Beta was entirely a different setting from Ground Gamma, which she had gotten the pleasure of seeing during her impromptu entrance exam. While the latter was created in an industrial labyrinthine factory, Ground Beta was a replicate of an exact urban setting, and the route getting here required a private bus (UA property) too—which led to Kaze wondering just how extensive this institution was.

Approaching a door at the bottom of the stairs, Midnight didn't hesitate to twist the knob open, her face brightening up until her signature exuberant nature surged up.

"We're here!"

Kaze walked in behind the woman, instinctively ducking her chin when all eyes instantly went towards her just as it did this morning.

After what Lunch Rush and Midnight just told her about transferees, the stares began to grate on her bloodstream. She wanted them to look away, and she was far from reluctant to use force if need be. She didn't need scrutiny from them, her own classmates.

Was her argument with those two seniors enough for them to rethink her opinion of her? Or was the friendliness from last night just fake? A flimsy facade to wave over her presence. After all, she was _the_ transferee.

Kaze gritted her teeth. She was nothing but merely the unlucky individual who snagged the title of 'first'.

Anyone else could have been in this position right now.

_'Stop it.' _Mentally slapping herself, Kaze clenched her fists, willing away Midnight's words to release its haunting when a sight at the far back made her pause.

Koda Koji stood slightly on his toes, raising a shy hand with a small curl of his thick fingers.

_"Hi." _He mouthed.

Kaze blinked, shocked, yet it was enough to simmer down her annoyance.

She smiled back.

Beside the slouched form of Aizawa, a man of an intimidating height stood next to him, garbed in a mustard-colored suit with frenzy golden hair, his shadows deep as the moon's secrets as a pair of cerulean eyes gazed at her with concealed opinion.

It was All Might, shriveled in his retired glory, yet the aura he oozed was far from ordinary still. Overwhelming, almost, that Kaze had to consciously level her shoulders.

"You're late," Aizawa drawled, his tone haughty and glare penetrating.

"That's payback for this morning." Midnight rebuked with a smirk, playfully striding towards him topped with a slap on his shoulder. "But unlike you, I have a valid reason for our tardiness. We were testing her costume." She nodded towards Kaze, and all three teachers seemed to size her up at the cue.

Kaze was proud to say she held back her fidget.

"Young Uchiki."

She flinched, alert at the low delivery from All Might. Yet, in contrast to Aizawa's dark demeanor and the hidden sadist beneath Midnight's whimsy, All Might extended a friendly hand and a smile, his eyes kind and unjudging. No scrutiny nor amazement.

Just a person greeting another person.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I look forward to teaching you along with everyone else."

Inexplicably grateful, Kaze took his hand with a small grin. "Thank you."

"Right," heaving a sigh, Aizawa swiftly took the reins out of reflex once the introduction was through, even though the class was All Might's responsibility at this moment.

Lowering his gaze to meet her own, Aizawa turned to properly face her. "While you were with Midnight, Uchiki, we had everyone undergo through a light exercise session to gauge their improvement from the past year. Think of it as a reality check."

Kaze nodded her understanding, her mind already building up scenarios as to where this conversation will lead. Midnight had already mentioned that all three teachers attended this class because of her, but she still had no idea as to what kind of test they had laid before her teeth.

Picking up on Aizawa's pause, All Might shifted on his feet and continued for both of them. "But we have a different objective for you, Young Uchiki. We have no concrete data if your abilities fall beneath or in par with your classmates' in truth, not to say that we doubt your abilities. We just need to know where you stand for a thorough evaluation. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." Giving the girl one of his encouraging smiles, All Might then turned towards the class along with his fellow teachers, his expression light yet stern as he addressed them as a whole with a neutral gaze.

Yet in contrast to what Kaze expected, it was Aizawa who spoke to them all.

"Listen up," he began, dark gaze squinting at the scratch behind his eyes. "It is of the essence that we have to focus this class on Uchiki here for her evaluation, for her and all of you. As All Might mentioned, we need more data, and you need to know your new classmate. Which is why the three of us agreed that each of us will pick one of you to help with Uchiki's objective for today. So I'll start first." Aizawa shoved his hands in his pockets, gaze scouting amongst his previous students for a moment. Kaze felt her limbs stiffen at his pause, an eternity trapped in the few seconds he spent before the first name fell from his lips.

"Iida, come up."

"Yes!"

Kaze released a breath she was holding. It was hard not to miss who this 'Iida' person was, because as soon as Aizawa ordered him too, a tall mass of armor raised his hand before he promptly marched towards the front—his back straight and his strides measured to a fault; the armor jarring with a metallic click in each step he took.

Kaze swallowed down a wince. She couldn't imagine wearing a costume that heavy.

Iida stopped before her, his hand extended for a shake and yet, his approached lacked a friendly vibe compared from All Might's welcome; his own replaced by a clipped yet respectable acceptance. A natural professional.

_'Who knew_._'_

"Iida Tenya," he shook her hand once when she accepted. "I look forward to working with you, Uchiki-san."

"Likewise," she smirked, crooked yet cautious. "Tenya."

Kaze ignored his sputter, the white of his armored mask widening just as Midnight snickered from behind her. Even All Might appeared wide-eyed.

"W-Wha—"

"Next," cutting off the boy's stutter, Midnight clamped a hand on Kaze's shoulder, gently pulling her aside and away from Iida. "I'll have Kirishima-kun! Don't let me down now." She winked, coy and playful with a purr laced beneath her giggle.

Kaze looked towards the direction where Midnight threw her wink, finding yet another (blushing) boy who was close to her height, his rich red hair done in a complicated spiky fashion. He had a peculiar costume though, his arms covered with sleeves yet his torso was left bare.

She smiled when she met his eyes, finding his to be a shade lighter than her own. "Hello."

Shredding away the cherry flush on his cheeks from Midnight's minor teasing, the boy flashed her a toothy grin. "Hello! You can call me Eijirou if you want."

Kaze hummed her approval, not that she needed any explicit permission from him to address him as anything else.

All Might cleared his throat, gathering everyone's attention before Kaze could decide to offer a more verbal response to the redhead. However, when she gazed back towards the crowd to have a vague guess as to who the retired hero would pick, she noticed someone at the far back—a meek-looking boy clad in green, his hands fidgeting without a proper decision to twine or fiddle them apart. Kaze bit back the urge to call him out. He was nervous, more so than anyone else who waited with bated breath for All Might to pick one of them for the task.

"Young Sero, please come forward."

Slowly, akin to the silent weeping of a creek, Kaze watched as the boy she saw pursed his lips in what resembled to be disappointment. Kaze eyed All Might from the corner of her eye, then back to him, curious as to why the latter seemed so disheartened for not being picked for just a simple exercise. Or what she thought was a simple exercise.

"The name's Sero Hanta."

Juggled out of her reverie, Kaze went back to focus. She hadn't even realize when the person All Might called had walked up to her. He was tall though, close to Iida's height maybe, except for his lankier build compared to the armored hero's. Sero's features were composed of a seemingly permanent grin on his face, his dark locks straight and styled without care for exuberance. However, Kaze was more focused on his knobbed elbows.

"A pleasure, Hanta." Kaze shook his hand, catching a glimpse of tape peeking out of a thin slot from his elbow. _'__Interesting.'_

As soon as both of them dropped their hands, Kaze listened as All Might began to explain the task they would have to do, his voice clear enough for everyone to hear whilst both Aizawa and Midnight gestured for the rest to sit back and observe—a simple cue for the rest of them to observe and gain lesson from this despite being uninvolved.

Kaze bit on her lip, a small wrinkle forming between her brows as she spotted Momo and Tsuyu send her encouraging smiles with a giddy Mina flashing her a thumbs-up coupled with a grin.

Their gestures for good luck to battle uncertainty.

Kaze thinned her lips. It wasn't that she was nervous. They had to evaluate her. It was a need and she needed that too. To know whether or not she was good enough or was just fortunate. She didn't need luck, she needs surety.

The truth.

But at the moment, Kaze has none of that. She has no idea whether or not she was as strong as her peers are at this moment. She has no idea whether or not she deserved any of this _at all. _

She needed this.

Koji was one of the few who stood at the very back, his shoulders still hunched to escape attention. But he was positioned just so for Kaze to see him fully.

Maybe because they talked earlier.

Maybe because he heard those senior's crude words.

Or maybe because he thought of doing the same gamble Kaze had briefly entertained when she talked to him.

But whatever it was, Koji seemed to have the truth that Kaze sought, because when he gave her nod, it was almost as if he already _knew_.

* * *

**Oh my. This is a long chapter, a daunting 16k+**

**I hope I didn't bore some of you :)**

**Graphene aerogel & graphene -** **I was researching for the lightest and strongest materials ever created and I've come up with these two. Graphene aerogel is, according to those Chinese scientists, is several times lighter than air. And then there was graphene, said to be thinner than paper but stronger than steel. I haven't dug deep enough to know whether or not they were ever used fabrics, but since this is set in the futuristic realm of BNHA (where a costume can be based from one's DNA from the hair *cough Mirio cough*), I had no qualms in using these elements. :)**

_***Kouchou-sensei - a more specific/formal form for "kouchou" (suffix). Both basically means "principal".**_

_***Senpai - upperclassman/upperclassmen**_


	9. Simulation

**a/n: hi guys, I'm so sorry that it has been a while. things have been hectic for a while, then I had an unexpectedly hard time trying to pick up some motivation to write. I hope you guys are well during this crisis though.**

**I listened to some Naruto Shippuden OST while writing this chapter; some melancholic melody then some action vibes to help me through. :) now I miss Gaara and Itachi**

* * *

**"I won't disappoint. That's a man's oath, Kaze-chan!"**

* * *

_Short, stubby fingers tangled and untangled themselves back and forth_—_twiddling and untwiddling as round plump cheeks warmed to a deep red. A shy comparison to the shade of half his hair, yet despite such obvious tells, the boy himself remained oblivious to it all._

"_What's wrong with you?" _

_Startled, Shouto jolted his head up with his gaze rounded wide, mouth falling open then snapping shut as he tried to fish for words to no avail. "I, uhm. . ."_

_From his spot by his desk, Touya arched his brow, gazing at his younger brother with an impatient curl on his lips that only intensified the anxiety brewing deep inside Shouto; stomach flipping and heart drumming to squeeze out nervous sweat to coat the palm of his hands._

_How should he say this?_

"A girl fell from the sky and landed on me, but now she's gone. Please don't tell father."

_Shouto swallowed, gaze dropping as Touya's look switched to a glare. _

_No, he couldn't very well say that. Which led him back to his initial indecision: should he or should he not tell anyone?_

_Shouto forced himself to drop his hands, willing his fingers to settle instead of making a fool of himself in front of his older brother. Touya was usually patient, rivaling even the calm nature of his sister, but as of now, he was anything but. He had his own homework to finish before he was tasked to help Fuyumi's, then he only had some time to himself before Natsuo comes demanding for his company again. As he always does without fail. _

"_Shouto," Touya tried again, willing his expression to smoothen into something neutral_—_and only because it was Shouto. "What do you want?"_

_Peering beneath strands of red and white, Shouto heaved an overly stressed sigh, cheeks redder than before, then mumbled out his predicament._

_Touya blinked, then frowned. "What?"_

"_I me. . . a. . . "_

"_What?!"_

"_I met a girl!"_

_Silence. Stunned and speechless. Stubby fingers wrestled together in mild apprehension_—_twiddling and untwiddling_—_then a harmless pencil slipped past a loose grasp, rolling until it teetered on the edge of the desk._

_Touya blinked, once, then twice, lips forming letters without its sound._

_He had to blink again._

"_. . . You what?"_

_Embarrassed (and equally mortified), Shouto ducked his head as his eyes found comfort on the floor. How could his brother ask him to say it again? _

"_I met a girl."_

_Ah. A girl._

_Wait. . . _

A girl?!

_Touya regained his wits, his young pubescent mind finally grasping the words his youngest brother just uttered. _

_Shouto met a girl. A girl._

_When?_

_Furrowing his brows, Touya tried to gather his thoughts, confused as to how his brother even met someone outside their family with the way they were prohibited to even put a foot past the gate to their abode_—_most especially Shouto. Not when the latter has yet to show any signs to identify the nature of his quirk for their father to deem him worthy or worthless, cast aside like Touya and the rest of his younger siblings. _

_How did Shouto even slip past security without any of them knowing? As eldest, Touya could confidently say that he was the one who had the full grasp of understanding as to what his father's intentions were, and as eldest, the seed of affection and responsibility to watch over Shouto's future (as what he had done to Natsuo and Fuyumi) was buried in his bones. He was the man of the house with their father rarely there to keep them company; the voice to adhere to next to their mother._

_He should've watched his brother more._

_Shouto going outside without anyone knowing could provoke their father, Touya knew, especially when the former still stands in uneven ground_—_his fate uncertain as it is tied with his quirk. _

_Touya didn't know how to protect his brother if he turned out to be the one their father was hoping for._

_With a careful sigh, Touya pushed back against his chair, twisting around on his seat to face his little brother properly without seeming too towering nor too dismissive. It didn't matter how his brother met this girl he spoke of. For all he knew, Shouto could be plotting a lot of things as Touya spent his days in school. Innocent schemes, of course. Shouto was months away from turning four, but he was intelligent for his age, and it was only due to that fact that Touya had no doubt that Shouto must have snuck out without alarming anyone. _

_Heck, he may have not even been aware of how forbidden his act may have been. _

_Shouto may be intelligent, but he was far too naive._

_For that, Touya sagged in relief. Natsuo was a blabber, consciously or not. Fuyumi may not say anything, but her jittery actions would give everything away. And as for their mother? Touya had no worries of their mother spilling any of their dirty secrets, but for what it is worth, it was best if this little adventure of Shouto's just stays with him. _

"_I see." Toying a teasing grin on his lips (forced, yet also partly true because valid concerns aside, he was still, first and foremost, a brother_—_a brother who pokes fun on his sibling getting a crush), Touya casually leaned back on his seat, giving an air of playful acceptance to mask his unease. "Is she cute?"_

_He smothered down his triumphant grin when Shouto shot his head up, his face beet red and scandalized. _

"_NII-CHAN!" _

_Shouto gave a desperate whine when his brother barked out a laugh, wishing more than ever that he had decided against telling Touya. _

"_I can't wait to tell Natsuo. This is gold."_

"_NO!"_

"_Why not?"_

"_It's embassing!"_

"'_Embarrassing, Shouto."_

"_Still! Don't tell!"_

"_Fine, fine." Rolling his eyes, Touya faked a defeated sigh, making a show of throwing his head back in annoyance. "I won't tell, but you can't tell anyone either. Not even mom." _

"_Why not?"_

"_Because mom will tell Natsuo, and Natsuo will bully you for having a crush." _

_Shrugging nonchalantly, Touya couldn't stop his grimace when Shouto immediately blanched at the thought, his innocent mind deeming the notion of his older brother taunting him because of a girl to be the greatest suffering ever. Touya couldn't deny it, he felt bad that he had to manipulate Shouto in keeping this a secret_—_in forcing him to keep silent until his fleeting childish thoughts would eventually forget about the girl. It was for the best, their father couldn't find out. Not now, not ever._

_To protect Shouto._

_Touya felt a lick of depression curl around his spine at his warped reality. It was for protection, and yet he's depriving Shouto the opportunity to create friendship. _

_Was he even doing this for Shouto's own good, or was he just carving up a lie to excuse his own fear towards his father?_

_Touya didn't want to know._

"_All right." Mumbled Shouto, unaware of the thoughts mentally torturing his older brother. He wouldn't dare tell anyone if it would save him from embarrassment. "I won't tell."_

_Soon enough, Shouto left Touya's room, leaving the latter to continue on his homework while he was left to mull over what happened just this afternoon: a girl fell from the sky, gave him a nickname, asked to which window was to his room and promised a visit because she decided that she wanted to be friends. _

_Friends. _

_Oddly enough, Shouto wanted that too. _

"I have to wait until mama and papa are asleep, but don't worry. They go to bed way too early!"

_Shouto paused, a hand on the knob to his door as the edges of his grin pushed on his cheeks. Maybe Touya was right. If she wasn't going to tell her parents, then he shouldn't too._

_It will be their very own secret._

_Satisfied and giddy, Shouto bounced to carry on his everyday happenings, picking up his discarded All Might action figures on the floor to play with. He could hardly wait until the next time he'll meet her_—_the girl who fell from the sky and landed on him. Him._

_Like his very own angel._

•

•

•

"**YOU** changed your choice, All Might. Why is that?"

Stationed before the wide monitors, Aizawa mumbled his question low, enough only for both the renowned hero and Midnight to hear his piece.

"He's not yet ready," said All Might with a sigh, shoulders lowering as he stole a thoughtful glance over his shoulder. "At the moment, young Uchiki's control and speed is already second nature to her. It would be unfair to use her as a practice target for him when this activity is specifically crafted for her."

Aizawa digested his words, silent until he gave an affirmative grunt to say that he understood at least, even though he didn't. Discreetly, he shot his own glance over his shoulder, lidded eyes landing on the form of one oblivious Midoriya Izuku.

The boy was watching the screens along with everyone else, standing right in front next to Uraraka and Asui. From what Aizawa could tell even from the distance, Midoriya had his face screwed in utter concentration, determined to inhale anything despite being set aside to just watch.

Then again, he of all people knew the bucketful of advantages in jutting down data.

Aizawa looked back towards the screen, seeing the handpicked trio just arriving by the designated area relied upon them, the teachers. Unsurprisingly enough, Uchiki was already there herself, arriving first yet biding for time.

And completely out in the open.

Aizawa narrowed his gaze. To anyone else, it would be a glaring mistake to remain out in the open when the main goal was capture. However, he knew better, and he knew that both of his fellow teachers were aware of that too.

Uchiki Kaze was not hesitant to start this activity to her advantage. But the question was, how long could she keep it?

Aizawa crossed his arms, the scar beneath his eye giving a rare itch. The simulation they handed to the four was simple in all its right, yet once the action comes to, complications will no doubt arise as he and his colleagues anticipated it would. The goal was for each party to consider the other a villain needed to be subdued. In order to succeed and end the simulation, all members in one party should be unable to continue or were captured by the other group with the handkerchieves as makeshift handcuffs Midnight had provided them all before they left.

That was the general rule—and also where the line of fairness dimmed.

One party consisted of Iida, Kirishima, and Sero; the handpicked trio he, All Might and Midnight had chosen.

Uchiki alone makes up the other party.

_"There are villains present in society that don't consider themselves as the bad guy. They have a sense of justice, and you're going to have to put yourself in their shoes. And no matter how askew their ideals may be, for them, it's all for the greater good. The punchline now is that we won't tell you who really is the villain until the end of it—which we would base according to the actions and decisions you've made during the exercise."_

Those were his words earlier as an explanation, and needless to say, Aizawa couldn't blame the four when their expressions morphed as if they'd swallowed something bitter. The task was to subdue the other, yet they had to be thoroughly conscious to avoid becoming the villain. A simple exercise to test their psychological strength whilst allowing them to gain their own understanding of villains.

A Hero must always know their enemies after all.

"Which among them do you think has the upper advantage?" Aizawa turned around, facing his old students as he addressed the question to no one in particular. An old habit that would take long to fade, no doubt.

"Well, if you think about it," Jirou began, her lips twisted in thought as she hummed to herself. "Iida and the others may have an advantage when it comes to numbers but. . ."

"We don't know anything about Uchiki-san's quirk." Finished Yaoyorozu, brows bunching further the more she wracked her brain. "There are quirks suited for subduing multiple targets at once."

Aizawa grunted in reply, yet decided not to say anything in turn. A year ago, most of them would've been aghast at the lack of balance between the two groups. Three against one hardly screams 'fair'. But they learned. After a year of him drilling the fact that the world was far from black and white—they learned.

There was a movement in one of the screens, signaling that the wait was almost over. However, before Aizawa could place his focus entirely on the monitors, he paused, head curiously cocked as he slid his gaze to his left.

"What is it, Todoroki?"

Aizawa frowned as everyone shifted their attention towards the boy in question, having not noticed the latter inching himself closer until Aizawa himself had pointed it out. There shouldn't even be a surprise when Todoroki naturally ironed out his expression, meeting his teacher's stare head-on as he dropped all hints of tension pulling his jaw taut.

"Sensei," Todoroki clenched his teeth. "Did you specifically pick Kirishima and the others because their quirks would. . . counter hers?"

Aizawa felt his eyes widen a smidge. Todoroki's question was valid and, in fact, true.

Uchiki Kaze was best in vertical movement, thus they put Sero against her. Her speed was her blade in which Iida would rival. Her affinity was the wind, which would be put to a test against Kirishima's hardening. That was the simple reason behind it all, although the initial decision between him, Midnight and All Might, Midoriya was supposed to be there instead of Sero. The retired hero had even argued that the activity would help the boy in controlling the new addition to his quirk, which sprouted back at the joint training with Class B a few months ago.

But obviously, All Might changed his mind and while Aizawa doesn't really care for the reason why, he'd have to lay it out to All Might coddling the boy too much.

Idly snapping his gaze back forward to the screens, all Aizawa could do was nod to Todoroki's query.

"That's correct."

Todoroki flinched, an action that was buried when an outburst from the rest of class A took the attention.

"They're starting!"

* * *

"The wind is cold today. "

Thoughtful, Kaze tilted her head back, eyes glued on the lazy streaks of clouds in the bright blue sky with a forlorn sense of longing; cheeks cold as the air kissed her skin, and yet it failed to bother her. Far from it.

What bothered her more was the situation she was in.

Toes wiggling within the smooth texture of her suit, Kaze glanced around the area she was in, a thread of impatience knotting around her sense of urgency.

_'Relax.' _Kaze thinned her lips, forcing her elbows to unlock in their agitated state. Impatience wouldn't do, she has to be patient_—_draw them out and analyze their agenda and quirks, conjure a quick plan while keeping the damage to a bare minimum.

All Might had instructed for each party to take different routes to get to this area, allowing them a sense of surprise to set an even ground. According to him, both routes would take approximately three minutes to reach the place they were told to start by foot. Enough distance away from everyone else, but not too far for the teachers in case an emergency arises, and yet after three minutes had flown by, none of the three had shown themselves yet. Understandable, but Kaze was no fool to not know that they were here. Another minute passed then another—the clock ticking in her head as each second squeezed tension into her muscles.

The breeze slowed.

Five minutes.

Decided, Kaze crouched down, smacked in the middle of the road with her elbows on her knees and fingers loosely locked together.

Closing her eyes, she began to renew her approach.

The three boys were somewhere around here. This would have gone differently had it been one-on-one, but Kaze was not about to complain. She needed this to prove herself—a required approval with the label she had unknowingly snagged the second she passed the entrance exam. The thought grinded on her conscience, wiggling like earthworms in her brain that refused to dispel.

It was pressure.

Pressure was something Kaze was accustomed with—had even felt its tangible force on her spine for years. That was pressure and so was this.

The only difference was, the additional presence of Eraserhead altered her whole perspective in approach.

She needed to prove herself to stay in order to learn from him.

Kaze peeled her eyes open, narrowed and alert. Wary, she made sure to keep her fingers locked onto numerous pairs of thin silver winds, idly rotating them around her in lazy, uneven circles to make it seem natural.

Akin to a spider crafting her webs.

Still, Kaze knew she had to be careful. Each of those boys had one lengthy handkerchief that would serve as their handcuff. And while she has three of her own to accommodate their number, she was told to capture _two_ to prove her win.

The other way to win was if all members of one party are unable to continue.

Three is their number.

She stands alone_._

Clearly, either method would work for them, but Kaze has to work her strategy.

_'Then,' _breathing out a puff of air, Kaze watched as the wind tolled her breath away to dance with them. _'I'll go first.'_

A bird's eye view was always the best way to look.

In a snap, Kaze pushed from her toes and shot high above the buildings in a blink of an eye.

_'Where are you?'_

"There!"

As if summoned by her thought, a fling of something white whipped towards her, nimble and agile, yet worse than a bullet. Kaze stiffened.

It was the tape she saw peeking from that one's elbow.

"Got ya'!"

"Go, Sero!"

The tape unfurled to circle around her, a split second twist done with uncanny precision. Kaze was impressed, at least. As expected of a student from UA.

They were quick.

"Sorry_— _" releasing the wind supporting her back, Kaze let herself tip back just before the tape could wound itself tightly around her torso, and fell. "_—_but not yet."

"Crap!"

"_She's falli_—?! Get her, Kirishima!"

Furrowing her brows, Kaze tilted her head back to see which of them they were talking about, not even caring even that she was falling head first.

The boy with red hair was waiting for her down below, arms loose yet ready at the side for any spontaneous action she would pull.

Her throat tightened when she saw his quirk.

'_The worst possible opponent,' _stretching her toes, Kaze had a heavy gust of wind to push against her back, bringing her descent faster and faster until she was above him in no time wasted, a cloud of puffed dust smoking around the area at their contact. Thinking quick, she held out her arms, muscles coiled and ready as her quirk began to bide to her wishes. _'No wonder he was picked.'_

A crater bloomed at their impact, powdered asphalt creating a shadowed veil.

"Kirishima!" Sero landed with a small thud on the side, concerned as his vision was obscured for a second.

But when it cleared_—_a slow fade of shadowed greys_—_the two figures of both Kirishima and Kaze emerged, a statue of strained limbs and gritted teeth.

Kaze looked at the palm holding her fist, her breath caught and her composure tilted.

He stopped her.

He _stopped_ her—uncurled his fingers and blocked her punch with nothing but a dedicated grunt at their collision.

He stopped _her_ fist that was swirled and armored by layers of miniature tornadoes she had done with the wind.

And he did it with barely a blink.

Stunned, Kaze dragged her eyes away from their connected limbs and brought it up to meet his gaze. Slowly, her parted mouth thinned shut—a sinewy smile soon growing after as their arms buckled.

"Nice quirk," she started, eyeing the jagged texture of his marbled skin. "I admire it."

In response, he returned her smile with a grin. "Thanks. What's yours? I can't really tell."

Before she could answer, a zipping blur was seen over the peak of her elbow, a low hissing sound that closely resembled the rev of an engine reaching her ears.

"Hold her, Kirishima-kun!"

Kaze frowned, brows digging down into a scowl. She couldn't move out of the way with the redhead's unyielding hold on her balled fist, and she'd rather not break her fingers just for a simulation.

But the one with the armor is quick, breaking the lazy ribbons of wind casually waiting for her bidding.

_'So that's his quirk.' _Speed_—_to counter her own.

Kaze wrinkled her nose, knowing she can't move freely within this very moment.

The next best thing was to move _him._

Kaze lifted the heel of her right foot so that only her toes remained on the ground. By doing so, all the blues and pinks of low-lying wind surged up like a tsunami, swerving the fast approaching Tenya and stealing his planted feet on the ground.

A little manipulation to the right with a tilt of her ankle and a small shift on her side—Kaze turned back to Eijiro and answered.

"My quirk—" the tiny curve of her lips may or may not have been devious when she let Tenya crash against the redhead's side, effectively releasing her fist as their clash had them tumbling down the road in a series of cut-off grunts and yelps. "—is magic."

"Kirishima! Iida!"

Kaze was ready for the tape when it zoomed towards her this time, spreading her fingers wide to cloak her whole body with the wind; shaping it to her precise perfection and thickening it with layers upon layers—blankets of thick greys and glimmering yellows that slapped away the advance of the paper adhesive.

With two currently out of the way, Kaze made her pounce.

Hanta Sero must have foreseen the change in her tactics when her hand hovered over the handkerchieves hanging loose around her neck, because as soon as he staggered back at the failed attempt of his capture, he turned and whisked himself away in an attempt to bide himself more time.

Kaze felt her heart gave a leap when she saw the boy resort to vertical movement—the excitement making her lungs feel too tight and the skin on her cheeks tingle as the rush of the wind slipped between her fingers.

She had them pinned. One was chosen to match her speed, the other to cancel the damage of her attacks, and another to rival her penchant for vertical movements.

Kaze wouldn't have to keep herself rooted for this one.

Dark eyes followed Sero's actions—zeroed in on the release of his tapes, watched it attach on a surface, then smiled when he _pulled _himself with it in a swing.

Shoot, pull, swing, release. Repeat.

Kaze had no trouble mimicking the movements soon right after in her own way. "You're not going anywhere!"

The adrenaline fed her resolve this time and she threw caution to the wind (pun unintended) as the grin finally broke free to the bubbling laughter in her chest. The objective of today's simulation went to the back of her mind as the hidden carefree side of her surged up on the surface, heart beating louder and faster as the chase grew on. She felt nothing but the air—hear and breathe nothing but the air.

The wind was cold today.

In hindsight, her seemingly sharp maneuvers and her earlier action to rid of Iida and Kirishima painted her to be the villain. Yet for some whimsical reason, it ceased to matter anymore.

She came to UA to become a hero, not to become a villain nor anything else for that matter.

No psychological simulation would alter that ulterior motive.

All there was left to do was to finish this, and losing is _not _an option.

"You're slow, Hanta."

There was a choked sound behind his tinted helmet when Kaze suddenly arched herself above him, fingers coming to curl on one handkerchief around her neck to detain him.

He clenched his fists. "Not yet!"

Copying her action earlier, Sero snapped himself loose from his current tape and allowed himself to fall.

Kaze swooped down and followed.

Gritting his teeth, Sero aimed at the side and swung sidewards; a swing that showed an unstable arc that following his movements would make her crash to a building. But to his shock, Kaze shadowed him still—running along the side of the building with a continuous roll of the wind supporting her side with every step.

Sero freaked out. "Oh, _come on!"_

* * *

Watching tight-lipped inside the monitoring room, Midnight dug her fingers on her forearms as she stood with her arms crossed, frown deep and eyes calculating the more she took in the ongoing chase.

That brat. . .

She was _playing_.

Midnight bit down her scoff, unable to decide whether or not she'd let the bud of amusement win or settle with the fierce exasperation festering within her gut. She didn't even need to ask to know that Aizawa and All Might shared the same opinion too. One undeniably more so than the other.

Leaning her weight on one foot, Midnight stayed silent as she observed Sero clumsily weasel his way out of Kaze's attempts to corner him with an unrelenting speed—her dives unhesitant and her twists uncoiled with purpose. The fact that Sero has yet to be captured somewhat relieves Midnight, yet for all its worth, it didn't matter.

Kaze's unhinged method and driven pursuit was making the boy rush and panic. Little by little, each narrow escape was a centimeter closer to being captured and the dawning realization was settling itself on Sero's consciousness.

It was obvious and Midnight scowled at it.

So far, Iida and Kirishima have yet to join the fray. Whether or not they were recalculating their strategy, Midnight couldn't tell.

They were out of sight and it was _frustrating_.

Initially, the cameras installed around the area showed the trio all stationed around Kaze, hidden away from her sight and biding their time to make her composure clumsy with impatience. It was a safe strategy, and effective if done correctly if Midnight does say so herself, and at first, it _was_ working. They all watched when Kaze began to scrunch her face as the seconds ticked, saw it when she became restless with watching the clouds roll by.

Then they all stood with bated breath when Kaze decided enough was enough, and launched herself up like a rocket into the sky—and then Sero was there.

Yet, in less than a minute, Uchiki Kaze managed to turn the tables.

Midnight was hopeful towards Kirishima. His quirk was the most useful against Kaze's, as shown when he blocked her strike from the air earlier. Being unable to fly was also an advantage because then, that would force Kaze to go down in order to subdue him. That redhead was the darkhorse against Kaze and Midnight knew that the brat realized that as well.

Still, Kaze outmaneuvered them before they, the audience, could even blink.

Which was why Midnight seethed to herself. She didn't blame the girl—no. In fact, everything Kaze was doing was erasing all doubts in everyone's minds to instill a sense of respect. Midnight herself included.

However, those three should've acted better.

"A-Amazing. . ."

"She's really fast!"

"Is it like telekinesis or some sort? Her quirk?"

In unison, both Midnight and Aizawa looked over their shoulders, brows arched at the hushed conversation between their students.

"Iida just stumbled to the side earlier with no reason!" Kaminari claimed. "It's gotta be telekinesis."

Mina nodded in agreement on her spot next to Uraraka. "Yeah, and she made him crash on Kirishima then stop Sero's tape."

"That's awesome."

Tokoyami dipped his head, a churn of a grunt vocalizing his interest.

Midnight smirked to herself, amused. _'These kids just don't get it.'_

Admittedly, it looked entirely different from just watching the action through rectangular screens that limited the angles. They couldn't hear the onslaught of actions unlike her, Aizawa and All Might, who were equipped with earpieces to keep track. But other than that, the wind was an unseen force—felt and heard most of the time, but the naked eye is useless against it.

It was only reasonable that, detached as they were from the action, they thought Kaze's tricks were just (as she had joked earlier to Kirishima) magic.

"No, that's not it." It was Yaoyorozu who uttered that quick statement, firm and confident, yet the intrigue in her tone softened her claim. "Watch their hair."

"Hair?"

"Yes."

Grinning, Midnight twirled around with her hands akimbo, nonplussed as Aizawa sighed out his exasperation towards her, echoed by All Might's raspy chuckle.

"As expected of you, Yaoyorozu-chan!" Midnight clapped her hands in glee, effectively rendering the creation heroine bashful.

On the screen, Sero had momentarily twisted by his waist to face his adversary, changing tactic to meet Kaze head-on when, against his expectation, she had grabbed hold of his shoulders—quick and easy and apparently weightless judging by his frozen stature—and hurled herself over him so that she was behind him to avoid his pesky adhesive.

She was pursuing him, yet cautious of his problematic quirk.

Not a second later, Sero's helmet flew off as he was blasted upwards with a flare of the girl's fingers. Midnight hummed, impressed.

He went up while she went down. A well-crafted pulley.

However, no matter how rackety the scene may be, Yaoyorozu's theory was proven right then and there. Kaze's hair was off her face, blown back in a haze as she kept her eyes on Sero flying up. Her jacket was billowing in the same direction too.

But as for Sero, law of motion should have also set its magic within that moment, but instead of his dark strands grazing the opposite direction of his ascent, they were blown back too.

"Wait," Izuku stiffened, eyes blown wide in realization. "Sero-kun is being pushed upwards by the wind!"

Midnight turned back, lips twisted between a smile and a frown as her students finally realized what was happening.

"Uchiki Kaze's quirk can be misguiding at first glance—if you don't know what to look for." She nodded towards the screen, a flicker of her lashes when Sero had escaped Kaze's pursuit in a string of luck yet again. "But, her quirk is rather simple. Highly effective, but simple. She controls the wind—its shape, strength, behavior and direction altogether. However, the wind is an unseen element, therefore could be disguised within most situations or any high-speed actions."

Midnight recalled proctoring the girl during her entrance exam with Aizawa—remembered the pinpricks of puzzlement and shock in between every time she thought she had Kaze's quirk right, but failed. Unlike Aizawa, Midnight had forgone to read the girl's files to identify her quirk beforehand, and she suffered. Watching her aromatic fumes being blown away was the first surprise. The second was when Midnight found herself often being tittered aside without reason, only to realize it was just the wind all along.

Exhaling through her nose, Midnight faced back the screen as she finished her narration. "In here, we can't digest the full expanse of her quirk. But as for Sero? He must be feeling thrown in a whirlwind and he wouldn't even notice due to the heat of the chase."

There was a beat of silence or two as everyone swallowed the gravity of her words—thrown into a spiral of endless wondering the more they thought on the endless possibilities of the transferee's quirk. No limits were said to them, so they were left to guess.

But then Midoriya Izuku broke the strung silence yet again and stepped forward, eyes alit with the familiar gleam of admiration whenever a new form of quirk was introduced to him—and he just _had _to analyze them further in every angle possible, peering closer and seeking the mechanics of it like angling a Rubik's cube here and there to find its invisible pattern.

"That's why you chose Kirishima-kun." He said, nearly breathless. "Her punch before. . . it wasn't a normal punch, but Kirishima-kun blocked it perfectly. Like how he can block Kacchan's attacks too."

There was a low growl that filled the pause that followed Midoriya's statement, pronounced as Bakugo curled his upper lip in retaliation, yet he didn't bother a comment, silent as he stood with his shoulders sagged next to Mezou.

"She outsmarted them though," Jirou pointed out, a finger poised in the air with clarity. "Iida and Kirishima are nowhere to be seen at the moment."

"Isn't that considered a win for her then? She only needs to take down two of them." Mineta supplied, spilling out the question that crossed through everyone's minds.

"Not exactly," Midoriya drew his brows close, pondering with a hand cupping his chin. "The rules are if all members in either party are unable to continue, or captured. The first rule applies for both groups, so even if Iida-kun and Kirshima-kun are down, there's still Sero-kun to worry about. But for the second rule, Uchiki-san needs to capture _two_. She wasn't able to tie the handkerchieves on them because Sero-kun acted quick and initiated the chase."

"So unless Sero is down too, then it's not yet over." Sato hummed in understanding, his concern for Sero palpable in the pucker of his lips. "Or even if she did capture him, she still needs to capture either Kirishima or Iida."

"Yeah. . ." Midoriya trailed off, lost and deep in thought as he watched, the light in his eyes reflected by the awe he felt the longer he observed the speed the girl set off whenever she pounced. Nimble and light—a precision unmatched. Opposite to Sero's tight grimace, the girl had this tiny curl on her lips. Almost playful, almost uncaring.

As if her mind had the task down, and the psychological obstacle stood by the simulation was tackled with a wayward shrug. She didn't even need to think twice to move. Everything was muscle memory alone.

Midoriya looked down at his hands—hands that still fumble and stutter. Hands that still lack the natural control needed to _not _to think.

He clenched his hands into fists. A repeat to his sealed vow.

This, he gathered, was another eye-opener to improve faster—to get _stronger _quicker.

Midnight watched all the exchange happen over her shoulder, wondering how on earth did Aizawa manage to bring all these kids to this stage already.

And now, it's her turn to watch over them.

She watched Todoroki remain unmovable in one corner.

* * *

Kaze latched on his wrist.

"Wha—HEY!"

"Like I said," she tucked her knees to her chest, tugging on his hand whilst she had a wall of wind hinder Sero's advance to get away from her. "Try faster next time."

Despite the cocky coo in her voice, Sero turned towards her—aghast, yet it lacked any genuine offense. He grinned when she grinned; a slow metamorphosis from unwrinkling his scowl, unhinging the clench of his jaw, followed by a breathless chuckle between the gaps of his teeth.

"You're cool, Uchiki."

Kaze barely had the handkerchief looped around his wrist when his grin changed.

"But like I said—" he swung his other arm and aimed his tape down to the side—right towards a sprinting Iida who caught the end, and pulled. _"_—_n__ot yet."_

Sero laughed as he was yanked away from her, the cloth pathetically drooping off his wrist as Iida ran off, the former performing a mock salute as he got away. Again.

Kaze scoffed through her nose, lips inching high on one corner. "He's funny."

Kaze grasped the handkerchief before the wind snagged it away, and despite her appreciation towards Sero's humor, she was not about to let him go away that easy—because it was reflex hen she took hold of his ankle and found herself being pulled along with a rush of air into her lungs.

"H-Hey!" Sero looked down, shocked. "LET GO!"

Ignoring him, Kaze set her sights on the one pulling them both, lips pressed tight as she focused.

Sero's tape was taut in Iida's speed, unable to match until his pace faltered. There was a shadow of a dent from where Kaze could see from above, but she didn't linger on that.

As long as there was someone who could challenge her speed, whether it be on air or on the ground, she had to prioritize.

Which was why Kaze climbed up on Sero's body without a heed to his loud shrieks, grabbing hold of his broad shoulders to level herself towards Iida with one goal in mind.

With a burst of powdered-pink winds on the soles of her feet, Kaze catapulted herself forward with a push off of Sero's shoulders, a hand gripping the middle of the latter's tape as she passed.

Sero's shrieks raised another notch. "IIDA! WATCH OUT!"

Iida glanced back. "What—"

It was too late.

By the time Iida had looked back to check on the situation (he hadn't seen her glue herself to Sero), Kaze was already latching on his back and hooking an arm around his neck.

"Tenya, right?" She looked down, inky tresses whipping about. "Sorry about this."

Kaze maneuvered her foot on one of his armored shoulders whilst she kneeled her left knee on the other. Then she leaped off, winding Sero's tape she had in her clutches around him. She did it once, twice—then had the wind boost her away and hooked the looped taped on a fire extinguisher nearby.

Iida staggered as he was held back, the tape unyielding around his biceps and torso with a choked gasp. The sudden halt caused Sero to crash against him without the motion to keep themselves moving forward, then with a slow pause, the tape hooked around the extinguisher had both of them zipping back to crash against the hydrant with a groan.

Kaze landed next to them, feet silent as she wounded the rest of the tape around them both. Once done, she peered down at Sero, holding out one hand towards him. "Could you?"

Sero glanced up, his back stuck against Iida's, and pouted. He cut the tape with a twitch of his elbow, allowing Kaze to wrap what little of it around her palm. Set aside and unable to remove it herself until he could do so himself once everything was over.

Reaching up to her neck, Kaze took the handkerchief there and tied it around Sero's wrist, sealing his status as 'captured' and therefore unable to continue the simulation. However, when she turned towards Iida, Kaze went to repeat her actions, but then halted.

Sero looked over his shoulder, curious at her sudden pause when he noticed it.

"Oh," he breathed out. "You lost your handcuffs."

"You did?" Iida perked up, his gaze latching onto Kaze's empty hands and empty neck. "You did."

"I did." Throwing her head back, Kaze heaved out a breath, trying to recall when she had lost the other two but couldn't.

Her luck had run short.

Kaze groaned, a finger reaching up to scratch the mark on her cheek in part annoyance. She wanted to berate herself for being so careless like that, but the sudden squirm of her muscles had her distracted; the familiar throbbing rhythm resonating all throughout her body after a chase like that. She had to lock her knees to hide the tremble she knew was coming, eyes closed as she sucked in much-needed oxygen.

She sighed. "This could've been over."

Iida stiffened, eyes averted as evident by the white in his mask. "I'm sorry for the misfortune, but in any case, I accept this defeat fair and square. You were amazing, Uchiki-san."

Cracking her eyes open, Kaze frowned. She wasn't blind to the stiff disappointment in Iida's tone, heavy and strict on himself alone as he bowed his head.

"Thanks," she said. "But this would've gone differently if you guys didn't hold back."

Iida snapped his head up, offended. "I—we didn't—!"

"You did, don't deny it." There was no accusatory in her tone when she said it, head cocked when Sero refused to look into her eyes and Iida falling silent—guilty in all its right.

Kaze tore her own gaze away. "Was it because I'm from Seigi?"

The silence was all the answer she needed.

". . . I see." Turning away, Kaze was about to set off to find the last one left, shoving away the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach after having her confirmation. It joined the ache in her thighs, yet it rang deeper—louder.

A patch in her blood that left her feeling hollow.

She knew she had already taken the role of the villain for this simulation. She didn't need to wait until it ended, but along the way, she had shrugged it off. She wasn't a true villain. But now, the bitter knowledge of being looked down made her feel like _becoming _one; chalked down for her origin that fuelled a hidden need to prove them otherwise.

But she was better than that.

Better than any petty self-pity.

She shook her head.

Kaze was about to jog away, lips tight in her ire, when the person she was looking for showed himself before her.

Kirishima looked at the tied up forms of Sero and Iida, both owlishly blinking at him from their spot by the curb.

"No way," he shook his head, stunned beyond words. "You guys. . ."

Tearing his gaze away from his friends, Kirishima thinned his lips, eyes following Kaze's movements as she shifted into a fighting stance—feet apart and knees slightly bent with her torso facing him, arms up and fists loose.

"You're here." She narrowed her eyes. "That's good, less work for me."

When a chill went past his cheek, Kirishima looked down to see specks of dust spiral around her feet by the flare of her wind. Idle and waiting.

He swallowed.

"I hope you're better, Eijiro."

Setting aside Iida and Sero for now (they were unharmed anyways), Kirishima held his stance too, then activated his quirk with a queasy grin.

"I won't disappoint. That's a man's oath, Kaze-chan."

A blink was all he received at the odd yet affectionate addressing. Noticed, then discarded.

Kirishima curled his fingers.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Still and cautious, nerves wrecked by the hammering of their adrenaline and anxiety into one. It gripped their joints. It squeezed their throats.

It caused both of them to move at the same time.

For Kirishima, he felt it by the subtle change in the air; the swoop of the temperature until all he felt and heard was the wind—whistling low in his ears and gnashing into every direction akin to drift of a blender. It billowed her hair and twisted his clothes.

But he remained unfazed as Kaze appeared before him with a ready uppercut.

"You don't mind me calling you that—" duck. Parry. "—right?"

"It's just a name." Roundhouse kick. Swivel. "It doesn't matter."

Kirishima wondered—blocking her onslaught of attacks with well-placed movements—if that logic was the reason alone as to why she addressed everyone so callously casual.

"Then," despite himself, Kirishima found himself grinning as he went for the offense after he sneaked a chance. There were these almost invisible swirls around Kaze's forearms that he slowly began to notice each time she stepped back and dodged—moving her head to the side to narrowly avoid the punch to her face. "'Kaze-chan' it is!"

He grinned more when her eyes widened.

"I'll have you know," —an uppercut, missed, yet struck a red line by her chin— "That I don't plan on holding back."

Kaze caught his wrist, pivoting on her toes as she directed his fist away and slid up to his side.

Her smile was back this time. "How noble of you."

The elbow to his head was back by more layers of her miniature tornadoes than usual. Thick and furious—slaving a slab of concrete off with the excess by its sheer ferocity.

Even then, Kirishima stood unmoved, her only wound on him being the small splinter by his temple, yet he couldn't deny the linger of his stare at the damage her attack provoked.

Unfazed, Kaze leaped away with an aimed kick to his abdomen, her heel connecting to his side with a slice of air to chip more off his ragged texture. Kirishima felt the strength behind the blow more so this time, his breath stolen before he could even see it.

He gritted his teeth. _'She's fast!'_

Hopping away on a reasonable distance, Kaze twisted around with wide eyes, a gasp stuck in his throat when Kirishima staggered back on his feet. Swaying dangerously, but still back on his feet.

Her arms shivered with the exhaustion. "No way. . ."

Kirishima tipped his head skywards, pulling a satisfying crack on his neck with a well-worn sigh. Squaring his shoulders, he bent forward, gauging at the way his skin pulled in the middle of his back, his quirk slowly dissipating with growing cracks and splinters.

He frowned to himself, tufts of brazened hair hiding the pinch in his face.

Red Counter had given him the advantage against her close-ranged attacks before, but the damage was more than he had thought. She was almost there—on the verge of breaking his quirk down just as Bakugo had done before, but she stopped.

A glance towards the girl in question gave Kirishima all he needed to know.

She was nearly out too.

"You're strong. A headstrong determination like that—" he chuckled in good nature, shifting on his feet to ready himself for more despite the vulnerable patches of his skin gradually growing all over. "—that's manly."

Kaze arched her brows. Partly towards his comment, more so because of his drive.

Paying no heed to the protest of her muscles, Kaze went back to her first stance—balled a fist and tightened her fingers enough to gather two thick blankets of wind to swirl around the length of her arm. "I'm a girl."

Kirishima didn't need to respond.

In a beat of one frozen second, red met red in the midst of the challenge. A weighing of character—a sign of acknowledgment.

Each let out a small grin.

"Wind Call—"

"Red Gauntlet!"

"—Sucker Punch!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Startled, two pairs of eyes swerved to their side in alarm, but it was too late.

Aizawa scowled as a cloud of impact mushroomed when the two exchanged fists for the last time.

* * *

"Ow!"

"Keep still, I'm almost done."

Wrinkling her nose, Kaze did as was told and sat unmoving on the chair before the old woman's prying gaze, the latter's pruney fingers delicately wrapping a bandage around her left hand.

She had broken her knuckles at the last punch.

"Sorry about that, Kaze-chan."

Waving away the apology with a short hum, Kaze lifted her eyes towards the boy on her side, his eyes guilty and frown apologetic.

He had yet to get rid of his gaze on her hand for a while now.

"That was very unmanly of me, hurting a girl like that."

Kaze had to stifle the urge to point out that they weren't—without regrets—pulling back their strengths back there.

"It was a simulation," she sufficed as consolation. "Whatever happened there shouldn't be taken to heart."

"But I hurt you."

"I'm going to be a hero. I would expect a few bruises along the way."

Kirishima made to argue, yet with a barely concealed twitch of his brow, he decided not to. She had her knuckles broken while he received a small nick on the chin and another on his temple, both done by the slice of her quirk that was deep enough to sting. To her, it was even, especially when Recovery Girl wiped away his injuries to mere scabs and her broken knuckles repaired within a minute.

It was nothing, but still, the matter sat unwell with Kirishima. Foreign, almost.

"All done."

Kaze shifted her attention back to the nurse before she glanced down at her neatly bandaged hand. She flexed her fingers, noting that aside from a manageable twinge, everything was good. Sore, but good.

Then again, everything felt fine as soon as the old lady had given her and Kirishima those chewy candies—better after being kissed too.

"No heavy lifting for you for a while, you hear? Give it at least twelve hours before you do anything drastic." Swiveling back around on her desk, Recovery Girl went back to organizing her belongings before the two had been dumped here by Aizawa—long after he'd thoroughly berated them with words sharper than a tip of a blade.

He was far from disappointed though, Aizawa, as he had implied after he simmered down from his rant; pointing out the overall improvement of Kirishima and complimenting Kaze's creative use of her quirk—using it as a booster, an armor, a wall, and a slingshot in one simulation. But in the end, Kaze was right when the dark hero said that the simulation ended with her being the villain (for her lack of handling care, and because her wind had bent a few lamp posts, shattered glass windows and scratched out pieces of asphalt during her one-on-one with Kirishima, all without either of them noticing), though there was no victor.

She may have had both Sero and Iida subdued, but Kirishima had met her ground.

"Got it." Kaze nodded her submission, though she inwardly made no promises to uphold.

"Good," said Recovery Girl with a smile. "You can both go back to your class now."

"We will," Kaze stood, brushing off imaginary dust on her skirt and fixing the hem to her spandex shorts underneath. Inclining her head towards the old lady in farewell, Kaze left the room with Kirishima in tow. "It was nice meeting you, Chiyo."

Recovery Girl thinned her lips, yet smoothed it out with a wide smile. Contrary to what most felt like, she wasn't opposed to the way Kaze addressed her as soon as names were exchanged. It made her feel young. "You too, Uchiki-san."

With one final smile, Kaze turned away as Kirishima bowed his goodbye along with his gratitude before he jogged up to follow. And out of a polite impulse, she waited, holding the door open for him until he was out and she shut it with a dull click.

As soon as they were alone in the hall, Kaze fished her hand into the pocket of her skirt.

Kirishima leaned in curiosity. "What's that?"

Glancing up beneath her lashes, Kaze had to smile at the width of his bright, candy-red eyes. Sharp as his quirk, yet light as a cloud on the sky.

There was a tiny scar over his right eye too.

Kaze pulled out two bars of Snickers. "Want some?"

Out of anything he was expecting, two bars of chocolates weren't those. "You have those sitting in your pocket all this time?"

"I like sweets," she took hold of his hand and promptly planted one Snickers there when he declined. "Take it as a sign of my gratitude."

He paused. "Gratitude? For what?"

Unwrapping her chocolate, Kaze initiated the walk back to their class, swiftly taking a glance when he tore his open.

"For before," she said. "You didn't hold back, for one, and you handled yourself fine against the wind. Only Kuugo has ever done that so far, and now you."

Kirishima hummed, cheek full after biting half of it in one go. "And who's Kuugo?"

"Gang Orca."

"No way! You're his intern?"

"Yes."

"And you just call him by his name like that?"

"Yes."

"Whoa." Taking another generous bite out of the chocolate offered, Kirishima chewed in thought, concluding that Kaze must have learned all those cool moves from the former number ten—now twelve—hero. However, that wasn't his main concern.

Kirishima swallowed the snack along with the sigh bubbling up his throat. "They didn't mean to, you know."

Kaze paused, teeth on her chocolate, and sent her gaze back to him. Tentative.

Kirishima took her silence as his cue to continue. "Sero and Iida meant to gauge your abilities as part of the plan we made, then once we got it, we strike." A corner of his lips jumped up, a wry chuckle caught between his sharp teeth. "You just surprised us first before we got the chance to do anything. They didn't mean to underestimate you."

Saying nothing in return, Kaze bit on her snack, straying her gaze back forward. For all its worth, there was no deceit laying in his tone—nothing but the full trust and respect he had towards his comrades. His friends. People who he could rely on and people who he could endure pain for.

It must be a nice feeling, because as far as Kaze knows, she only had her family to trust her everything with. The people who she would rely on and the people who she would endure anything for. Tanaka Daichi and Sakamoto Kuugo were her mentors, and she trusts them. Aizawa Shouta saved their lives. She trusts him.

Other than them, her list was blank.

Nevertheless, Kaze accepted his words and shoved away all her initial impression towards Sero Hanta and Iida Tenya. They learned their lesson and she learned hers.

"All right." She took another bite and shrugged. A simple show of acceptance, yet it seemed to have triggered something greatly within Kirishima for he froze, a strange sound stuck in his throat, then whirled towards her with the most passionate look she had ever seen.

Kaze leaned away.

"A quick acceptance urged by quick forgiveness!" He balled a fist, voice thick with unshed emotions as he bit his lip. "How manly!"

_'Huh?'_

Kirishima continued his monologue, oblivious to the incredulous look she was giving him all the while. "I didn't know what to expect from you, Kaze-chan, but this just proves that you're willing to overlook such mishaps and continue to look on forward to the future!"

"Bu—"

"What a strong heart!" He cried out, the snickers dying in his grasp.

Kaze huffed. _'I give up.'_

Swiftly, Kirishima took a step in front of her and turned around to face her, his beam wide and bright and cheeks harboring the same shade of his hair and eyes.

For what it's worth, strange or no, Kaze found herself smiling at the gleam in his look. His eyes may be closer to her color, yet he had the same hopeful eagerness she sees in Hisae—the same child-like wonder that stays for eternity; an optimist within the dark of the sea.

She finished her chocolate with the same tilt on her lips whenever Hisae tugs on her arm to ride on the wind with her.

"I look forward to being your friend from now on." Kirishima flashed her a thumbs up, grin impossibly widening even more as he puffed his chest.

Stepping aside, he took hold of the door's handle to their class. Kaze hasn't even realized they've reached their room already.

"Since you were gone this morning," he started. "I'll introduce you to the rest. They've been itching to properly get to know you since last night didn't go so well. Where were you anyway this morning?"

There was a hint of a chastise there that Kaze knew she should have note, yet dismissed it anyway.

"I was flying around," she averted her gaze at his dumbfounded blink, hoping that her tiny lie would go unnoticed. "Helps me control the wind better and train my body for longer use."

Kirishima made a sound of understanding, as if he knew perfectly well what she was referring to but shrugged in the end. "I see."

Clapping a hand on her shoulder (his Snickers long gone and wrapper stuffed in his pocket like she did), Kirishima pulled the door open just as he steered her inside with his ever-so wide grin.

He sucked in a breath, then shouted. "Everyone!"

"There she is!"

Just like before, Kaze found herself dead in the center of attention, barely resisting the urge to shrink with a purse of her lips.

She strained a smile.

A boy with electric yellow hair bounded up towards her, his grin practically identical to Kirishima's when he stood himself before her, eyes bright in a golden hue as he took her hand in his.

"My name's Kaminari—Kaminari Denki, and I just have to say you were so _awesome _kicking Sero's butt like that! So if you want to, you can do that aga—"

"Kaminari!"

"You know what I'm saying right?"

"No, she doesn't." A hand shoved away Kaminari's face out of the blue, removing him from Kaze's personal space and successfully causing him to drop her hand in the process.

A girl with a short bob of dark purple hair replaced his spot, her fringe stylishly asymmetrical that suited the smirk on her face quite well. Fascinated, Kaze followed the wiggly length of the girl's ear, matching the latter's expression when two plugs waved at her in greeting.

"Kyouka Jirou," the girl smiled, shaking Kaze's hand as her earplugs shortened back to her ears. "Don't mind Kaminari, he's an idiot."

"Hey!"

Jirou chuckled, shaking her head at his offended yell. It had Kaze chuckling along too, subtly exchanging an amused glance with Kirishima over her shoulder.

"Uchiki-san!"

Bringing her gaze forward, now reasonably lax, Kaze inclined her head with a small smile as a group made its way towards her this time; a girl with chocolate brown locks and pink cheeks leading the fray.

"It's nice to finally talk to you, Uchiki-san! You weren't in the dorms this morning so we were kinda worried."

Kirishima elbowed her side as if to say 'I told you so'. She ignored it.

"Sorry," Kaze shrugged, impish. She didn't provide any explanation as she did to Kirishima, not quite liking the need to repeat herself. The latter would just have to relay that information if another asked.

Stepping up from behind, his hand still on the curve of her shoulder, Kirishima began introducing everyone in the group, jabbing a thumb towards each person mentioned as he went. "This is Uraraka Ochaco, Hagakure Tooru and—"

"We've met."

Extending her hand, Kaze offered yet another prim smile towards the girl in question—the very one who had held a weapon against her back in a slew of a threat. Poised and unwavering.

Kaze could respect that.

"We have," returning her smile with an easy one, Yaoyorozu clasped her hands with a short giggle. "You were amazing out there, Uchiki-san. It seems you didn't need our luck after all."

"Still," Kaze started, dropping her hand languidly to her side. "I have to thank you, Mina and Tsuyu's support from earlier. It was appreciated."

Next to Yaoyorozu, both Mina and Asui grinned their welcome; sheepish yet glad that their small gesture of a cheer earlier had helped.

"You're welcome." Said Yaoyorozu, hands clasped properly before her with a small dip of her head to be polite. It had Kaze somewhat gauging on her own attitude. Watching the way Yaoyorozu handled herself—with an air of utmost elegance and grace, notable with the straight of her spine and the gentle square of her shoulders like so—was a strange experience to Kaze. She had never met someone so refined like the taller girl. However, with the way Yaoyorozu's eyes shimmered beneath the light, Kaze could see the same childish glint there. Subdued compared to Kirishima's open wonder, but there.

Looking between her and the small crowd that gathered, it dawned onto Kaze then: the difference between her and these people. How they resembled Hisae more than they did her.

It was the innocence.

A little bit of something withered within Kaze, but she shook that off.

"Have you met the rest, Uchiki-san?"

"Not yet."

"Right!" Unaware of her thoughts, Kirishima excused themselves from the girls and steered Kaze away, putting her right before a group of guys with Kaminari following behind. "This is Satou Rikidou, Tokoyami Fumikage and, well, you know him."

Sheepish, Sero scratched the back of his head with a forced chuckle, pushing himself up from his seat to greet the duo when they approached.

Kaze recalled her previous words to him and Iida, remembered the edge in her incensed tone that made his grin bow and his eyes shift.

She swallowed her sigh.

"What I said before," Kaze began, keeping her eyes trained on Sero alone with the smallest dip on the corners of her mouth. "Excuse my temper. Sorry."

Curious as the others may be, Kaze gave no indication to explain, nor did Sero and Kirishima for that matter. What did, though, was the clear relief she saw from Sero, the tension unclutching its fingers and his smile becoming easier—natural and lopsided.

It made her breathe a little easier too.

"Right," Sero chuckled, shaking his head. "It's all good. Sorry too."

"Sure," shifting on her feet, Kaze allowed another smirk to grace her features; cheeky and predatory. Sero gulped, worried.

Kaze's parting words—as Kirishima pulled her along again to meet the others—made all Kaminari, Tokoyami and Satou arched a brow towards Sero.

"Try faster next time, Hanta."

He sputtered.

Comforted to have that behind her, Kaze settled back as Kirishima dragged her around, introducing her to her fellow classmates and often bumping back to those she had already talked to prior. Admittedly, it was mostly Kirishima and them who opened their mouths more than she did in a day—always smiling, always beaming; always with a ready greeting of an enthusiastic phrase. It was somewhat unsettling, if Kaze was being honest to herself. Which she was.

This was new.

Her old classmates and schoolmates alike back in Seigi weren't bad people, per se, but the attitude she most often received was either two of the choices: passive or aggressive. Half of them were civil enough to be acquaintances with a prim curl of their lips, unaffected to her sturdy improvement that left them in the dust; yet half of them would crinkle their nose, scoff their dislike, and drag their feet to snarl about her cocky status above them all.

Kaze had never bothered to rectify those reactions she received.

But this. . .

This was almost worse.

It was difficult finding the neutral ground to appear nonchalant yet friendly. She wasn't Haru, who always lifted the atmosphere with his jokes and jovial laughter; and she wasn't like Kouyou, who—despite his introverted self—was reliable and approachable if one needed assistance.

Kaze wasn't like her family. They adjusted just fine.

Subtly bunching her shoulders to release her tension, Kaze sourly relied on Kirishima's unknowing support as each new faces graced her vision. He was familiar, and she wasn't lying when she said she admired his strength. She could see it even at first glance. That alone was worth her respect in the long run, and for what it's worth, his eyes shine like Hisae's.

Discreetly glancing towards the boy in question, Kaze gave a thoughtful frown, wondering what on earth led the redhead to act like her best friend right then and there.

"And right over here is Midoriya!"

Pulling her gaze away from Kirishima's profile, a pair of forest green eyes met her own with wide pupils—specks of lime in his round gaze visible beneath the shadow of his curly fringe, which came into a mop of unruly mossy green hair.

It was him. The boy who had miserably shrunk when All Might chose Sero.

With a startled blink, Kaze eyed him down, lips pursed as she took in his awkward stature and shorter height. He was lean underneath the sag of his uniform, that she could tell from the pull of the fabric around his shoulders. Still, Kaze couldn't quite guess what was unique about him aside from the constellation of freckles dusting his cheeks. Everyone she had encountered was as diverse as colors and strong in their own right.

What of him?

Lips spread wide, the boy—Midoriya—clutched his hands into fists and leaned forward. Still as awkward and stiff as he appeared to be, yet the glint in his eyes held more praise and admiration than Kaze ever had in a lifetime.

"I-It's nice to finally meet you, Uchiki-san!" He beamed more. "You were _amazing _back there! I-I mean, I didn't realize that your quirk was harnessing the wind to your liking, but that was really cool! It complimented your hand to hand combat really well and your movements mid-air were all controlled and fluid, like it was seamless!" He leaned back, suddenly lost deep in his thoughts without warning. "Your costume must have been streamlined to lessen air resistance as much as possible. The way you move and shape yourself is already aerodynamic itself, so the only problem would've been the drag or the weight. No wonder your costume was form-fitting as it was. You must be really light too to be that quick and instantaneous in air, but the muscle weight is also accountable. Those moves wouldn't have been possible without thorough training and exercise. Is that right?"

Kaze blinked, stunned. Her throat constricted at the onslaught of information she received without pause, and yet the boy still remained mumbling incoherent phrases to himself without fail—a continuous loop of mechanics and aerodynamics that configured the workings of her quirk that she alone hadn't even known.

Aerodynamic movements? She just moves as she pleases.

Complimented her hand to hand combat? She just learned from Kuugo and diminished her disadvantage in strength by layering each harsh winds to her hits.

Streamlined costume to lessen air resistance? She just thought some clothes and fabrics were too heavy.

Muscle weight? She trained more than she was told to and that made her lithe and sinewy, which suited her just fine. But then she was also a sucker for sweets.

"What are you saying?"

Her straight question had Midoriya flinching out of surprise, face drowning in a deep strawberry hue as he stuttered. "W-W-Well, I, uh, just—I didn't mean to—it's just that your quirk—"

"What of it?"

He squeaked. "N-Nothing!"

Bemused, Kaze tilted her head, wordlessly urging him to continue as Kirishima scratched his nape to voice his own confusion.

Willing himself to relax, Midoriya released a strained breath, then attempted to verbalize his curiosity without his tongue tangling in fright.

"It's just, you control the wind to your liking. Isn't that right, Uchiki-san?"

She nodded once. "Yeah."

Midoriya stilled, awed. "Wow. . . That gives you an unlimited range then, either long-distance or short-distance. Of course, the former is better, but still. I've never seen someone with any wind type quirk that's that versatile."

Jumping into the conversation, Kirishima hummed his agreement with a firm nod. "I know right! Your reserves are literally endless."

Kaze lowered her lids, tongue against her teeth to retaliate—yet she kept her lips sewn shut. She didn't say that while her reserves were generally limitless, she could only wield the wind: planetary winds, trade winds, local winds and the like. With it, she could also harness the breeze.

Controlling _still_ _air_, on the other hand, was impossible for her.

Kaze had tried—had locked herself in windowless rooms in an attempt to move nothing but the oxygen inside, but she couldn't. She felt her heart howl for the connection of the wind, chipped as it was whenever she did bar herself in a room. And as if that wasn't enough, her control was minuscule at best in her current stage—only able to completely harness the breeze and the local winds; perhaps borrow a little bit from the trade winds.

But planetary winds?

Kaze could gaze about the thick pastel blankets frolicking higher than the sea of clouds all day, yet when she did try to dip a finger into it—ease her will into it little by little—they would rebel and toss her away. Quite literally so.

It was frustrating. Utterly and undeniably embittering to feel the longing towards the strongest winds—her connection towards it profound, and yet it rejected her every time anyway.

How unheard of a quirk.

Frowning to herself, Kaze let the boy think whatever he wanted. She has no desire to tell anyone of her shortcomings, especially the fact that her own wind could _hurt _her some time. Not even her family knew, and that's because she never wanted them to worry.

She left that trust solely onto Kuugo alone.

Kaze took a step back, leaning her weight on one foot as she waited for the conversation between Kirishima and Midoriya to finish (she had done her contribution and that was that). However, that tiny little action caused her to graze her shoulder against someone else's. A feather-like touch, yet it jarred her all the same.

Turning about to apologize, Kaze popped her mouth open when she paused.

She didn't quite know which words to grasp when the person before her set his gaze on her as if she was a ghost.

An unwanted one.

"Sorry." She finally settled, brows knitting as both Kirishima and Midoriya shifted to face the newcomer.

"Going already, Todoroki?"

Kirishima's tone was friendly, the standard lilt he used to address everyone within the room. Yet for some odd reason, Kaze observed the boy's jaw clench, fingers snaking around the strap of his bag as mismatched eyes lowered behind strands of snow and ruby.

A flick of his gaze towards her own had Kaze frowning.

She dropped her eyes, a finger scratching the kanji on her cheek as the sight of marred flesh stayed within her mind's vision.

"Ah," the boy, Todoroki, nodded in reply. Slow and gradual, as if he was waiting for an event to occur. He sighed through his nose. "Class is over."

"Well, yeah but, we all agreed to introduce ourselves to Kaze-chan first, right?"

"We'll all go back to the dorm anyway."

"We don't want to risk her disappearing again."

Quirking a brow in question, Kaze slid her eyes back to Kirishima. "I'm right here. Why don't you just ask?"

"Well, when you put it like that. . ." Midoriya chuckled, sheepish as Kirishima puffed a cheek in a pout. "Does that mean you'll join all of us for dinner if we ask?"

At the promise of a meal, Kaze's stomach gave a quench, reminding her yet again of her scrapped breakfast and hurried lunch. Admittedly, Kirishima's logic was valid—she _was _planning to head up in the skies again.

However, avoiding her dormmates wouldn't do. Again, Kaze had to strictly remind herself that she wasn't in Seigi anymore. Coming and going as she pleases was out of the equation and everybody here was as good as she was. Better in fact.

"Sure," she said offhandedly, all the while thinking about how much she had to catch up to be in par against these people around her.

"If you'll excuse me."

Kaze blinked, startled to see that she had forgotten about the other boy. Needless to say, she didn't have to utter anything as he waltzed out of the room without further prompt, leaving them with nothing but a curt nod in a flimsy excuse for manners.

Both Midoriya and Kirishima stuttered their farewells.

"Sorry about that," chuckling, Kirishima turned to beam widely back at Kaze, unconsciously fixing Todoroki's hurried departure with his charm. "Todoroki's a really quiet guy, but he's cool."

Kaze almost begged to differ, eyes fixated on the door left unclosed after his wake.

"Let's go back to the dorm, Kaze-chan! Bakugo's not here, so he's probably there. I'll introduce you to him. You wanna join us, Midoriya?"

"Huh? Uh, y-yeah. Why not?"

"Great!"

Quietly, Kaze followed the redhead's lead, his previous statement still ringing in her head without concrete reason.

She argued that first impressions were often untrue, but still. That boy, Todoroki. . . he had pointedly avoided looking into her eyes the whole time.

Which was a shame—as Kaze shouldered her bag and listened to the two carry on a conversation without her—she thought he had the most striking features she'd ever seen on a person. People with mutant-type quirks or altered appearances may be unique to each individual, but as a general, they were as common as anyone's plain features. Such as hers.

But he was different. Somehow, in some way she couldn't quite pinpoint. He just _was_.

_'He has nice hair.'_

* * *

As soon as the click of the door reached his ears, Shouto finally—_finally_—let himself crumble.

His face contorted in anguish.

Why.

Why.

_Why._

Shouto lifted a hand to his face, the confusion in his eyes clear as a flicker of his fire shadowed his features in warm tangerine.

_Why?_

He thought he had his life finally steered in the right direction. He wasn't drowning in the magma of his hatred, no more frozen with the flare of his rage.

_Everything was finally fine._

Then _this _happened.

_WHY!_

Shouto threw his bag away, yanked his tie loose and shrugged off his blazer. His hair was a tangled mess after being repeatedly pulled and raked on by his fidgety fingers, and his breathing was heavy.

He couldn't quite understand the abnormal heat in his chest.

"Damn. . .!"

Shouto stumbled forward, sliding open the paper doors to his cramped 'bedroom' with buttery fingers. And as the last of his strength left, his knees buckled just in time for him to plop onto his bed.

"DAMN!"

A brief second showed his room illuminated with the light of his fire, his ire expelled fleetingly—and then he sagged.

He _sagged._

Shouto sat, elbows on his knees and head bowed in defeat and frustration.

He was confused.

"Damn. . ."

With a shuddering exhale, Shouto closed his eyes. And behind his lids, he saw _her. _Her cheeks still red and flushed as she clutched his tiny fingers with her own tiny hand, dragging him along an empty park she had brought them both with no one but the moon to witness their whims. He saw her hesitating by his window, knuckles poised to knock when she didn't need to—because he was already there and inviting her in.

Shouto remembered him smoothing her confused scowl with his thumb when everyone pointed their snobby fingers at her to blame, and he remembered her muffling his tortured whimpers on her shoulder because he was terrified of his own father.

Those memories were so old, almost buried with his butchered childhood until recently, he had to pluck them out of his healed sorrows and agonize himself all over again.

Shouto had no doubts anymore.

It was _her._

As soon as she arrived accompanied by Aizawa-sensei, he wasn't able to drop his stare. At lunch, he was turning his head left and right trying to find her while his ears caught the rampant whispers about the transferee smarting their third-year seniors.

Then when she strolled in behind Midnight, Shouto couldn't quite decide whether he was miffed or not that she failed to notice him.

But it was her.

As soon as he saw the first show of her quirk—Shouto knew.

The solid realization after a concrete proof was harder to swallow than he thought it would be. Then as if that wasn't enough, she was as flippant in the air as he remembered her to be as. Graceful and nimble, yet sleek and taut.

She had grown.

It was her. . . but at the same time, it wasn't.

"Kaze," Shouto scrunched his nose, boring a hole on his floor as he tested her name on his tongue. "Uchiki Kaze. . ."

It felt foreign. Like salt after sugar.

That wasn't her name.

Shouto bunched his shoulders, brows crinkling at all the nonsensical information burrowing in his head. There was no denying that it was _her_ face he saw when she turned around after bumping him with her shoulder. And when she did, Shouto took in what he could.

Her hair was the same. Short and choppy to her chin, then thick and windswept in endless black—strands of which fell to her lashes from the part on her right. He could tell that she _still _tried to tuck in the locks behind her ears to no avail. It wouldn't fix the few wayward strands. Her lashes were as thick as he recalled them to be, fanning against the apple of her cheeks whenever she lowered her gaze in thought. Her face was still small, lips still a dust of pink in its full shape, though her nose had grown longer—thin and narrow, but elegantly long with a pert bridge.

She was the same—it _is _her. Shouto was certain.

She just grew up like him and everyone else.

But for all it was worth, Shouto couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

Call it cowardice, but it was the truth. There was a stutter in his visual muscles when he did try to will himself to look—but the first glance (accidental as it may, when she twisted to face him after their contact) had rendered him powerless.

He thought he could do it.

Shouto huffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he let his eyes fall shut yet again.

He couldn't do it. It was harder than he thought it would be, facing the truth. Facing _her. _

How could he react to the girl who had lit the beacon in his grueling childhood like the light at the end of a tunnel, when she herself hardly flinched at the sight of him?

How could he react when he thought she was gone from this world, thoroughly crushing what little hope left in him until he got it back from Midoriya—only to see her alive and well before him like all his mourning was a joke.

_How._

Shouto didn't know, so he couldn't look at her.

However. . .

Frowning to himself, Shouto peeled his eyes open a crack and laid down on his bed, absentmindedly grunting when someone (Tokoyami) knocked on his door to announce dinner being ready in half an hour.

Raising a hand, Shouto tentatively felt for the pull of his skin, lips thinning as he traced the puckered flesh over his left eye. For the most part, he had qualms towards his scar. It was the evidence of his mother's suffering, but he never blamed her. His scar represented the chunky chapter in his life he had vowed to overcome, but that wasn't his concern.

Drifting his index to his right cheek, Shouto felt his frown deepened and his scowl twitch. Without thinking, he flicked his finger in deft strokes, writing an imaginary kanji of the character for 'heart' under a second.

She had that now on her right cheek. Heart.

She never had that before.

Shouto lowered his hand with a sigh, then refusing to succumb himself into any more of his dark thoughts, he got up—discarding his uniform for casual clothing before he went downstairs.

He wasn't going to be pathetic and avoid her like the plague. Because whatever it was that made her look at him as if he was no one, whatever it was that curbed down her smiles and put _that _kanji on her face—he wanted to know.

He wanted to know why her name was engraved on a stone while she holds a new one.

* * *

**So. That happened. I must admit, writing Shouto's thoughts are fun. :)**

**I just finished season 4 (I know, I'm late) and I could NOT arrange my emotions after that finale. And then the recent chapters from the manga are just pulling on my heartstrings. I can't with bnha sometimes. **

**That said, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. :) 'til next time!**


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